


Dominator's Game

by Animationfantic



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 25,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8364049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animationfantic/pseuds/Animationfantic
Summary: Hater and Peepers have hit a rocky patch. When Peepers tries to clear his head, Dominator steps in. Now, Peepers is on a planet with an expiration date. Hater needs to find him, and fast.





	1. The Fight

Hater was _this_ close to beating his high score. His eyes darted across the screen. Horribly pixilated 8-bit graphics flashed and popped. Sticking out his tongue (it helped him focus), Hater jabbed furiously at the buttons. Closer…closer…And-

Something crash-landed into his lap. Both Hater and Peepers screamed. Then screen flashed, then went black. Game over.

“Peepers!” Hater shouted. “I was gonna beat the high score! What’s wrong with you?!”

The Watchdog staggered to his feet, his eye in both hands. The world was spinning. Grop, he felt sick.

“Peep-ers,” Hater emphasized each syllable. “What-?”

An odd shrieking hiss answered the question. Captain Tim was on the ceiling. Between his front pincers, he had Peepers’ helmet.

“I didn’t do anything!” Peepers snapped. “Tim grabbed the helmet and dragged me halfway across the ship. He just dropped me!”

Drool splattered on both of them. Peepers growled, muttering under his breath.

Hater ignored him. “He’s probably bored. But I was in the middle of something!” he complained, shaking the controller at his boyfriend.

Peepers glared back. “So was I! That’s a month of invasion plans ruined thanks to your pet!”

Tim growled.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Hater said with an exaggerated eye roll. “You know your plans never work out.”

A hot flush appeared across his eye. Peepers spluttered incoherently for a few seconds until he found his voice. “And yours are so much better! Supergluing Wander’s shoes to the floor?”

Hater blushed this time. “I didn’t know he take ’em off! I thought they were just part of his body. And that’s not the point. You ruined my game!”

“Your spider bit me!” Tim hissed again. “See?!” Peepers shouted. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a bleeding puncture mark.

Hater snorted. “Come on, you’ll live,” he grunted. “That’s nothing.”

Peepers yanked his sleeve up, covering the bite. “He’s venomous!”

“You’re building up a tolerance to it!”

Peepers let out an angry squeak. Hater pinched the bridge of his nose to stifle a laugh. It was too cute. Peepers made the most adorable noises when he got mad. “OK, OK,” he said, barely hiding a grin. “You win. Let’s go have it checked out.”

Peepers humphed. Hater didn’t know if he was annoyed or satisfied he’d won the argument. Growling, Peepers stomped to the door. A second later and the helmet hit the bed, drenching the sheets in slimy, wet drool.

“Tim!” Peepers shouted. He glared at Tim, who scuttled down the wall and over to Hater.

“No, Captain Tim!” Hater snorted back his laughter. How could he say no to his bad boy?

Tim panted happily, then rushed the Watchdog. Peepers yelped. Hater moved fast. He scooped Peepers up in his arms and shot a green lightning bolt at Tim. It singed the carpet. Tim hissed and retreated, going back up the wall and into a ventilation duct. They could hear him scuttling off. Hater sighed. Tim was cute, yeah, but _nobody_ hurt his C. Peeps. He gave his boyfriend a brief squeeze. “You good?”

Peepers clung to his cloak like a cat to a curtain. “I’ll live,” he muttered.

“Fair enough,” Hater agreed. He hitched Peepers up to his shoulder.

The Commander wrapped a small arm around Hater’s neck and shuddered. “He hates me.”

Hater laughed. “Tim hates everyone.”

“Hater, if this-if we’re gonna work out…” Peepers said, very awkwardly.

The skeleton stared at his feet, embarrassed. “I know.”

The spent the rest of the walk to the infirmary in silence. The medic didn’t ask about the bite. Just administered an injection and slapped a band-aid over it. Hater felt awful. Thanks to him, Peepers had been bitten _again_ , and his prized helmet was full of spider spit. Grop, he needed to train Tim. His communicator suddenly beeped.

“It’s your mom,” Hater said, scrolling down. Peepers groaned. “She wants you to remember dessert for next week’s big…thing?” Man, Peepers had a pushy mother.

Peepers groaned even louder. “The family reunion! Grop, how could I forget?”

“Um, easily,” Hater said with a shrug. “You’re busy. And don’t you hate these family get-togethers?”

Peepers had his eye in both hands. “I still need to get the food. She’ll just keep badgering me. I need to go _now_ , before I forget.”

Hater stood up. “Great! I’ll come-”

“No,” Peepers interrupted. “I need some space.”

“Oh,” Hater’s horns drooped. “OK. I get it.”

Peepers heaved himself up off the bed and pulled on his boots. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “Just need to clear my head.”

Hater nodded. Peepers went on tiptoe and kissed the skeleton’s cheek. Hater blushed. Peepers pulled out the half necklace. Best buds. Hater fingered his own half.

“I love you,” Peepers half-whispered.

“We should get pie,” Hater blurted out. “Triple pickle.”

“That’s the nastiest thing in the galaxy,” Peepers raised an eyelid. “You sure?”

“I’m the universe’s ultimate evildoer!” Hater blustered. “Of course I’m sure!”

Peepers affectionately rolled his eye as he left the infirmary.


	2. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater gets suspicious.

That was three days ago. Peepers usually took an hour to two to cool off before he came back. But that _had_ been a big fight. Maybe he just needed some more time. At first, Hater hadn’t worried too much.  He played the game again (he beat his high score this time). And even trained Tim. It might’ve cost Peepers a boot, but Hater was pretty sure Tim now knew the difference between Peepers and food.

How long did it take a Watchdog to pick up food? Peepers didn’t even _like_ triple pickle pie.

And so the hours became days. Hater curled up in bed, his blanket over his head. He didn’t sleep. Just stared at his communicator screen, asking the same question over and over again. _Where are you?_

“Enough’s enough,” Hater announced to Captain Tim the next morning. “Four days? Something’s wrong. I know it.”

Still in his basket, Tim panted like a dog.

Hater’s eyes narrowed. _Dog…_

Hater found one of Peepers’ dirty uniforms at the bottom of the hamper. Carefully, tenderly, he held it out to Tim. The spider sniffed at it for three long seconds. Hater couldn’t breathe. Then Tim screeched.

“Go, boy, go!” Hater roared. Still screeching, Tim scuttled down the hallway with Hater hard on his heels.

“Why didn’t I think of this before?” Hater muttered under his breath. “Tim’s a born hunter.”

He attacked the Watchdog so much, Tim must’ve memorized his scent by now. Through the food court, past the barracks, down to the launch bay. Tim paced restlessly back and forth. He’d lost it.

“No, no, no!” Hater shouted. “Peepers!”

 _OK. OK. New plan. Uhh…I got it!_ Hater scrambled up to the ship’s controls, a level above the launch bay. _Where is it? Where is it?!_

Except for Andy and Bean, the control room was empty. A huge glass window looked out on the docked Eyefighter jets, Mini-Skullships, and Hater’s old van parked in the hangar below.

“Andy,” Hater gasped out.

Andy turned around, beaming. “Lord Hater, what sur-”

Hater cut him off. “Bring up all the security footage and pod tracking stuff from the last four days,” Hater shouted. _“Now!”_

Bean exchanged a terrified glance with Andy. The Watchdogs hastily ducked down to focus on their small computer screens. The sound of Andy’s typing echoed eerily in the silent room. Bean’s face was grim.

Hater clawed frantically at his hood. _C’mon, c’mon!_

“Sir,” Andy began. “The only pod departure in that time frame was in Commander Peeper’s name.”

Hater’s heart squeezed. “Destination?”

“It looks like Vistaron, sir. Seems the Commander arrived late afternoon, four days ago,” Bean put in, not looking up.

“And?!” Hater demanded.

Andy’s eye met his. “There’s nothing else, sir. The pod registered a landing, not a takeoff.”

Hater’s nonexistent stomach dissolved. Peepers had made it to Vistaron four days ago. And he hadn’t left? Hadn’t called?

Hater tried to ignore the panic flooding through his bones. “C’mon, Tim, we’re going hunting.”

Tim stopped gnawing on his shoe and hissed in what Hater thought was agreement.

“Andy,” Hater said as he ran to the wheel, “send a takeoff warning. We’re gonna find him.”

Andy saluted and hit all the buttons he could reach. Alarms blared. The Watchdog copilots stampeded into their seats. All over the ship, Hater heard doors slamming shut above the automated voice.

_Secure all doors. Takeoff commencing. Ten…nine…eight…_

“Three, two, one! Go!” Hater put all his weight down on the gas. The engine roared to life. A jet of fire blasted from the tailpipes as the ship spiraled off towards Vistaron. Watchdogs yelled as they tumbled all over the place. Unsecured cargo clattered around the Skullship. Bean lost his footing and slid across the floor, his gloves squeaking.

“Sir, we’re going too fast!” Andy shouted. “The intergalactic patrol squadron! They’ll fine us!”

“Send me a bill!” Hater spat over his shoulder. _Finding Peepers is top priority_.

Tim’s claws dug painfully into his forehead. The spider screeched in delight. _At least_ he’s _happy_.

Hater bolted for his personal pod. The mini skull head chirped when he inserted the key. Tim settled in Hater’s lap, protected by the seatbelt.

He hunkered low in his seat and gripped the steering wheel until it hurt. The Skullship’s teeth burst open. Hater sped out.

Hater ignored him. Grop. Peepers’ ship. Just lying there. He spun the wheel so hard that the pod slammed into the dry turf. Hater wrestled with the seatbelt.

_Damn thing!_

With a pop, he came loose. Hater stumbled out the open window and ran to the abandoned pod. With Tim on his back, he examined every inch of the dusty thing. The door was unlocked. Keys still in the ignition. And…and…

_Oh, Grop._

His communicator. Peepers’ personal communicator. It was just sitting there, out in plain sight. No sign of a struggle. And no Peepers.

Hater’s brain went cold. _No. All this way. For nothing? No. No._

 _“No!”_ Hater slammed a fist into the dashboard. His eyes stung. _All this way! Peepers, where are you?!_

Hater snatched up his communicator and finally made the call he’d been advoiding for days. _Come on, come on!_ It seemed like an eon before she picked up.

“Hater, what a surprise!”

“Elara,” Hater gasped out. “Where’s Peepers?”

He crossed his fingers. _Maybe he’s there, with his mom. He can’t be lost out here._

There was a long silence. “I haven’t heard from in a few days. Last time he called, he said he was getting the dessert. It was on some planet or other, though for the life of me I can’t remember the name of it!”

Hater’s gut twisted. “Vistaron? Was that the planet?”

“Why yes! How did you know?”

Hater couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. “J-just a hunch,” he muttered.

“Did you two have another fight?” Elara sounded exasperated. “Hater, don’t worry about him. Peepers is a perfectly capable solider. He’ll be fine on his own!”

“But four days?”

“He’s been gone longer than that. He went on a mission for almost a month awhile back.”

 _We went together_.

“I’ll keep an eye out, pun intended,” Elara laughed.

“Ha, ha. Good one.”

The line disconnected. Everything seemed wrong. So, so wrong. No Peepers. He wasn’t with his parents. Hater wasn’t surprised. Peepers hated visiting them. But somewhere deep, deep down, he’d been hoping that Peepers was there. Safe, angry maybe, but still safe.

 “I’m not giving up yet.” Hater said coldly.

He opened the hatch and slammed the door. With the pod locked up, Hater buried his face in his hands. “Peeps, where are you?”

Tim sniffed at the abandoned communicator. Hater wiped his eyes before examining it. Battery was almost dead. Last person called? Him, duh. Hater punched the dashboard.

“One more time, Captain Tim,” Hater said. “Find him.”

Tim caught the scent quickly. Hater ran after him. Tim’s course was arrow-straight. Peepers had gone right into town. He stopped outside the bakery, waiting for Hater.

“Attaboy!” Hater felt like cheering.

Instead, he kicked the door open. It was full of customers. At the counter, a smiling waitress waved him over. “Hello, Mr. Hater, welcome back.”

He glanced down at her nametag. Michelle. They’d met a few times. Hater was well-known here for ordering so much food. Watchdogs were small, but man, they were expensive to feed.

“Um, hi,” Hater swallowed hard. “Did you see Peepers here a few days ago?”

Michelle smiled. “Of course! Pickup order, right?”

“I guess? When did you see him? Did he say anything?” Hater demanded.

“I saw him about two, no three days ago. He didn’t say much, but he seemed pretty upset about something, really down.”

Hater’s heart twisted. _What’ve I done?_

Michelle continued. “There was this woman, a new face around here. She said she’d heard our triple pickle pies were good. I’ve never seen her before, but that’s not a surprise. Folks come from all over to try one of our pies. Anyway, this girl, when she saw Peepers, it was almost like she knew him. Her face it up, she had a wonderful smile. Really lit up her eyes.”

_Woman? He’s not a cheater._

“What did she look like?” It was a fight to keep his voice casual.

“Tall, kind of skinny, really pretty. Her skin, oh, the most wonderful bright tropical green! Killer wardrobe, too, even if it was all black. I’d love to know what she’s using for conditioner; her hair was so white! Wish mine looked that healthy,” Michelle said wistfully, tugging at a lock of her own. “She didn’t any anything to me, and don’t think Peepers noticed her. He just picked up the food and left. She followed him a few minutes after. I haven’t seen either of them since.”

_No. Not that! Anything but that!_

Numb with shock, Hater fumbled for the communicator stashed under his cloak. “Andy? Call Lord Dominator. I think she’s got Peepers.”


	3. The Kidnapper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peepers finds out what Dominator wants.

Peepers wouldn’t scream. He refused to.

“Wow, you’re a tough little bugger, aren’t you?”

Tears and sweat clouded his vision. Peepers blinked hard. Dominator’s face was an inch away. She was smiling. “All these magma arms, and you haven’t screamed once.”

He glared at her. Cold hatred drowned any fear in him. Peepers ignored the smoke rising from his uniform and tried to stay conscious.

Dominator stepped back, tapping her chin with a gloved finger. “You won’t have much skin left if I keep this up.”

Peepers growled, leaning forward against the torture restraints. The hot metal singed his wrists, but he refused to flinch. “Then turn up the heat,” he spat.

His chest heaved. It hurt to breathe. The skin visible under the charred uniform was scorched. Old burns had turned black, covered by hard scabs that felt like charcoal. New skin, half-grown, itched terribly. The half of the Best Buds necklace dug painfully into his chest, red hot. But it hadn’t melted. At least not yet.

Peepers could feel the blood blister under his eye throbbing. _Dominator doesn’t want me dead,_ he rationalized. _She’s looking for sport. She’s gonna toy with me until I snap. She’s having too much fun._

Dominator smiled again. “Turn up the heat? Great idea, Squinty!” Her hand tripled in size, glowing with energy. “Here’s the windup!”

Peepers snapped his eye shut and braced himself. Hater’s boney face popped into his mind. The Watchdog seized it, forced himself to concentrate.  _Who is the universe’s awesomest evil-doer?_

_“Aah!”_

This time, Peepers did scream. Dominator really had doubled the heat. He thrashed helplessly, still screaming. Memories burst under his eyelids, flashes of color and sound. That time Hater zapped Sourdough. Watching Andy’s stupid little show. Hater’s face when he managed not to burn toast. Their first date. The look in those big green eyes the first time they kissed. Nostalgia rose in him like bile. Grop, he’d been stupid! Taking all those times for granted. And the last time they’d been together, he’d fought with Hater. Promised to come back.

_I want to go home._

“Are you _still_ crying? Man, you’re pathetic!” 

Dominator’s cold voice brought Peepers back to earth. He blinked away his tears. “Aww, you miss him, don’t you, Squinty?”

That mocking baby voice drove him over the edge.

“Shut your face!” Peepers screeched.

Dominator started to laugh. It echoed around the torture room, high-pitched and sarcastic. She leaned in close, until he felt her breath against his retina. “Who could’ve guessed you two idiots had a thing for each other?” Dominator taunted him. “I crush his hopes, I break his heart, and he settles for you. A runty, little lapdog who’s loved him since the beginning.”

Peepers couldn’t stop himself from going red.

“It’s so delicious! You really think nobody noticed? The delusional idiot and his devoted little gremlin-”

“I said shut _up!”_ Peepers snapped forward, ramming his eye into her face.

Blood splattered all over him, hot and sticky. Dominator staggered back, pinching her nose.

 _I hope it’s broken,_ Peepers thought savagely.

Suddenly, she had him by the neck. Her nails dug painfully into his skin. Peepers snarled defiantly.

Dominator wiped at her nose. She was pissed. “ _Chill_ out, Squinty,” she hissed.

Peepers yelped. Cold, unforgiving ice spread all over his body from between her fingers. The blood blister on his neck burst. Every burn on his chest seared. The ice wasn’t cooling him off. The cold only intensified the pain and forced it down into his veins.

Dominator let go.

Peepers slumped forward, shaking. “Can’t finish the job?” he gasped out.

“Nah. I want you in decent shape,” she purred. “Consider this a warm-up.”

Peepers struggled to raise his eye. “Whaddya mean?”

Dominator pretended to look concerned. “Dang, I almost forgot! You’ll be playing a little game tomorrow, lapdog.”

Peepers couldn’t think. “Why the hell would I do something like that?”

Dominator stroked his blistered chest. He shuddered in disgust and looked away. "Because it’ll be fun, stupid!” she breathed.

Peepers shivered. Dominator dug her nails into his skin, her eyes glittering with cold amusement. “You have no idea how _boring_ things are lately. Destroying planets? So five months ago. This is the next best thing. Kidnapping something small and useless and forcing it to suffer. I’ve tried using bots, but it’s not exciting enough. Know what I mean? So, I’m using you instead. Hater’s the last thing between me and galactic supremacy. But why should I settle for another contract or verbal agreement? Not this time. You two have outlasted every other loser villain that’s stood in my way. Hater’s earned a prize for making it this far. So, I’m not gonna kill you, at least not yet.”

Peepers fought to control his breathing. Dominator was only an inch away. Blood still dripped from her smashed nose.

"Lord Dominator, incoming call from Lord Hater.” A bot solider tugged at the hem of her cloak.

 _So much like his!_ Peepers felt sick.  _Wait. He's_ _calling?! Oh, no! No! No!_

Peepers groaned. Cold dread flooded the pit of his stomach.

Dominator pinched his eyelid. “Right on cue. It’s showtime, lapdog.”


	4. The Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominator lays down her challenge.

Hater couldn’t sit. He was too nervous. He tapped his foot impatiently, staring at the screen with a fist in his mouth.   _C’mon, c’mon. Pick up the damn phone!_

Each second seemed like a lifetime. Each ring echoed eerily in the silent control room. Every Watchdog was still. He could almost feel their tension. For once, even Tim was quiet. He skulked in a corner, head cocked to the side, as if he knew what was going on.

Dominator’s smug face filled the whole screen. Something was wrong. Her hair was on end, the deadly helmet lopsided. A trickle of horribly shiny blood ran down Dominator’s face and into her mouth. Her nose looked broken. From his corner, Tim hissed.

“Look who finally decided to come looking for his pet.” She looked over her shoulder to talk to someone Hater couldn’t see. “You owe me a dollar, Squinty. I told you he’d call.”

The sarcastic tilt of her lip made Hater sick. _Squinty? Oh, no. She_ does _have him!_

“Give him back,” Hater snarled.

The familiar crackle of electricity rose from his clenched fists.

Dominator raised an eyebrow. “Not so fast, Hater. You’re gonna hear me out, or I’ll splatter bits of your precious little lapdog all over the galaxy.”

“Don’t listen to her!”

That high-pitched voice. Only one Watchdog was that shrill!

Behind him, Hater heard the troops let out glad sighs.

“Peepers!” Hater’s voice cracked with relief. “Don’t worry, it’s OK. I’m here!”

Peepers cut him off. “Hater, listen to me, it’s a trap, whatever she says, don’t trust her!”

Dominator rolled her eyes. “Your little gremlin is so annoying. He doesn’t shut up,” she groaned.

Hater started to growl. “Give him back. Now!”

“Temper, temper,” Dominator said dryly. She examined her nails. “No wonder he’s so neurotic. You’re setting a bad example for your boy toy, Hater.”

Hater spat angrily. Peepers let out a furious screech.

Dominator didn’t look up from her fingers. She didn’t even twitch. “Patience, boys. Don’t forget, I’m in charge.”

“Whaddaya want?” Hater blurted out. “Whatever it is; you can have it. Just give Peepers back!”

Dominator waved his plea away. “Blowing up planets and signing treaties? Please. Beating the completion into submission is getting old. You’re the only one stupid enough to still be in my way. That’s an accomplishment. And this is the reward…I’m giving you one chance to find where I’ll be hiding your little lapdog. Think of it as a scavenger hunt. A little reward for staying underfoot for so long. I’m bored, there’s no decent opposition out there anymore. I can blow things up whenever. It’s boring.”

“I surrender!” Hater shouted. “That’s it, I give up. You win! Just let him go!”

“No, no, no, no,” Dominator laughed nastily. “I don’t want you to surrender. I want to see you suffer. Break you losers down. So, Hater, I’m giving you something new, special. But it’s a win-win. You find him, he goes free, I get a show, and I’ll let you leave my galaxy unharmed. See? Nothing but positives! For everyone. I’m entertained, you get Squinty back in one piece. Everybody gets what they want.”

Hater struggled to speak. Nothing came out. _She kidnapped Peepers because she’s bored? What kind of sick game is this?!_

“Say that again, you twisted monkey!” Peepers snarled, still out of sight. “I’ll smash your nose back into your skull!”

“He hits pretty hard,” Dominator admitted. She wiped a fresh drop of blood from her upper lip. It sparkled against her shiny armor.

Hater puffed out his chest. _My Peepers. Nice hit!_

“So, lemme get this straight,” Hater said. His voice shook, from pride and terror. “You want me to go looking for Peepers, turn the whole damn galaxy upside down, just so you can be entertained?”

“Whoa, you catch on fast,” Dominator said sarcastically. “It’s not rocket science, bonehead. Oh, and another thing. I don’t have all year for this. So, make this whole game show fast. I have a short attention span.”

“And how am I supposed to find him?” Hater asked.

_This is nuts! How the hell am I gonna know where to start looking?_

Dominator rolled her eyes. “It’s a scavenger hunt, not hide and seek. I’m not giving out any hints. What fun would that be? Maybe the power of _love_ will bring your little gremlin back home.”

Her sneering laugh sent a wave of hate pounding through Hater’s bones. Chest heaving, he fought to keep his temper in check.

She adjusted her helmet and smoothed her hair straight. “OK, boys, let’s have a bit of fun, shall we?”

“Hater!” Peepers suddenly screamed. “Hater, I love...”

The line went dead. The abrupt silence seemed to fill every inch of the Skullship. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Hater’s face stung from the tears that still glittered on his face. He forced himself to act. “You heard her! Let’s get a move on! Scouts, get searching!”

His insides felt hollow. The other Watchdogs ran for the doors. Andy and Bean took up their seats behind the controls. Tim slunk deeper into the shadowy corner.

Before he left to oversee the scouting parties, Hater cast a look back up at the black screen.  _I love you, too, Peepers._


	5. Game On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peepers gets a look at the horrors in store and ends a bit of comfort from some unexpected friends.

“No!” The anguished shout burst from his throat. Peepers ignored his tears and screamed at Dominator. “You’re insane!”

She didn’t look at him. Dominator bent closer to the keyboard, clicking a few buttons, adjusting a knob. A single drop of scarlet fell on the panel.

Peepers sniffled. Unable to wipe his eye, the tears streamed down into his shredded uniform. The salt irritated the stinging burns on his chest.

“Wow,” Dominator said casually, not looking up. “He really loves you. Ooh, this is delicious. Did you see how easily he caved in?”

“No,” Peepers spat. “You were blocking the screen!”

He hadn’t actually seen Hater. But the voice he knew so well was both balm and curse. _He’s looking for me. And I heard him. Oh, Grop, I wanna go home!_

“Well, this was fun,” Dominator said sarcastically.

The restraints suddenly relaxed. Peepers hit the ground hard. Completely winded, he rolled over, wheezing, trying to force air into his lungs. Peepers tried to heave himself up, but slumped back down, his arms quivering from the effort. Small wonder his legs wouldn’t move. Three days hung on a wall had robbed the circulation from his limbs.

Dominator seized the back of his uniform. Her nails dug painfully into the soft unmarked skin across the Watchdog’s shoulder blades. Peepers gasped, arching his back in agony. “I’m gonna miss making you squeal, lapdog. Make sure you have fun,” she said.

Peepers struggled, kicking his numb feet in the air. The necklace chain bounced on his exposed chest. Luckily, Dominator didn’t notice. She was busy at the keyboard again. Peepers stuffed it under his shredded uniform with trembling fingers.

“Imagine risking everything to save the person you love.” Her voice was cold, businesslike and scathing. Red with rage, Peepers only squeaked. Dominator looked at him, examining him. Peepers blinked away his tears and glowered at her.

She held him at arm’s length, like a cat by its scruff. Peepers saw the dried blood under her nostril crack as Dominator curled her lip. “It’s so fitting. He chose you because nobody else was stupid enough to be interested. And you were desperate, weren’t you, Squinty? Unlucky in love, besotted with the boss, the one alien who made you feel wanted. I can’t believe it took Hater so long to realize how much you love him. He’s everything you aren’t, you know that, don’t you? Strong. Fierce. An actual threat. That’s why you fell in love, isn’t it?”

Peepers felt a hot flush creep across his eye. Was it that obvious?

She gave him another scathing onceover. “Well, let’s hope your idiot comes looking for you. He’s good looking,” she hissed. “But he’s not too bright!”

A circular panel opened in middle of the floor. Unnaturally bright light flooded the torture room.

Peepers shut his eye. _That stings!_

He heard her sneakers squeak against the tile floor. A gust of cold wind raised goosebumps up Peepers’ arms. He squinted down at the hole she had opened and a saw a small planet, at least a mile below, covered in a swath of dark jungle.

His stomach dissolved. Dominator dangled him out over the edge. Her face lit up. “See ya!”

Dominator dropped him. Peepers screamed. Wind stung his eye. Panic restored feeling to his limbs.

 _Twist!_ Peepers ordered his body. Somehow, he managed to twist around so he was aiming feet first at the ground. He was yards above the nearest tree. Peepers curled into a cannonball and braced himself.

Branches snapped as he hurtled past. Peepers swiped away the huge leaves batting at his eye. 

_There!  
_

His boots caught in a fork between the branches. Peepers stopped falling and hung upside down. The necklace almost slipped off his neck. One swipe and he had the branch in his fist.

Years of intense training paid off. This was just like ab crunches. Scabs cracked as he straightened up. Peepers looked at his chest. Enough of the uniform was intact to protect most of the skin. Blood and pus oozed from the visible burns. It took a while to climb down the trunk. Lots of splinters and venerable skin.

Peepers leaned against the roots to catch his breath. Vibrant flowers bigger than him ruled the forest floor. The air was humid. Clusters of bugs hummed and buzzed all over the place. The light that filtered down here was tinged green by overhead boughs. Moss and fungus coated the thick tree trunks, covering the splintered bark. Peepers forced himself to stand. His legs were stiff from the three days locked in restraints. The drop had restored some circulation, but not enough just yet. It took thirty minutes for the stiffness eased.

The terrain was more mud than solid ground, but not impossible. Peepers squelched though the stinking forest, toying with his heart pendant.

A branch snapped behind him. Peepers tensed. A low snort, and the stomping of something very big and very heavy. He spun around, one hand automatically on his left hip.

 _Grop! No blaster!_ He froze, eye to snout with a huge blue animal. Peepers bolted. At least his legs were loose now. It was closing in. The hot, hungry breath hit his ankles.  _Go! Go! Go!_

He was running out of breath. He was gonna die, and never see Hater again. A sob broke his concentration. Peepers went down, and felt the thing fly past. He didn’t wait for it to turn. One quick roll and he was off again, running in another direction.

A horribly familiar ululating warcry made his stomach drop. _Grop! Wait. What the…_

“Gotcha!”

Something furry caught Peepers around the middle. The Commander’s screech of alarm brought the first animal running.

“Wait. Peepers?!”

_Sylvia!_

Peepers stopped writhing. Sure enough, the animal he’d been running from was the zbornak. The arms holding him close, then, had to be Wander. The nomad’s thick fur was itchy but familiar. Peepers gripped the stitch in his side.

Sylvia dropped her head, so they were eye to eye. “It is you! Thank Grop! I thought you were a bot!”

“Back up, Syl, give him some air, he’s shaking,” Wander said.

Peepers tried to breathe normally. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs as he struggled free of Wander’s strangling hug. “Where the hell did you come from?” he gasped.

Wander sighed heavily. “I got a little carried away trying to stop a huge bot from causin’ trouble, and wound up here when Dominator found out.”

“Where’s Hater?” Sylvia looked around, puzzled.

A huge lump formed in his chest. Peepers swallowed. “He’s…not here.”

_I miss him so much!_

Sylvia’s face softened. The pity in her expression made the Watchdog’s stomach clench. “So, it’s just you?”

Peepers bristled. “I’m still a Commander, with or without Hater!” Peepers made himself sound tough.

She didn’t look convinced. He couldn’t blame her.

“Of course you are,” Wander said gently. “We know that, Peepers.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Peepers hissed.

The other two exchanged a glance. Peepers bit back a snarl of frustration and pain. Dominator was right. _I’m nothing without Hater. Like I need reminding. Without him, I’m just…just a puny little Watchdog. Grop, I miss him!_

“So, what did you do to end up down here?” Sylvia broke the awkward silence by prodding Peepers.

He flinched. She’d poked the throbbing blood blister under his eye. He stepped out of reach, rubbing his throat.

Wander’s brow furrowed. He must’ve noticed Peepers’ wincing. “Are you OK?” he asked.

“What?” Peepers muttered, massaging his neck. “Yeah, ’m fine.”

 _If he buys that, I’ll eat my helmet._ But Wander didn’t press the issue. He just nodded briskly and climbed into Sylvia’s saddle.

The zbornak gestured at her saddle. “You comin’, Peepers?”

A growl rose in the Watchdog’s throat. For a second, he wanted to refuse. _Go with the idiots or stay here and get eaten by whatever’s crawling in the trees?_ Peepers hesitated. _Hater._ His stomach clenched. He hated to accept help from anybody, let alone Wander, but Peepers couldn’t lie to himself. _I’m gonna need all the help I can get if I wanna get home in one piece. Beggars can’t be choosers. Come on, Peepers. Don’t look a gift zbornak in the mouth. Take what you can get._

“Guess I am,” he sighed.

Wander extended a hand, and Peepers reluctantly took it. Sylvia boosted him into the saddle with a flick of her scaly tail. This was weird. Peepers was used to riding on Hater’s shoulders, not sitting next to Wander on Sylvia’s back. A surge of bitterness turned his chest cold. _Grop, I miss Hater._

“You must really miss him,” Wander said suddenly.

Peepers avoided Wander’s stare and examined the torn fabric on his sleeve. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I do.”

Sylvia murmured sympathetically. “Hang on, optic nerd,” she half-teased, but Peepers knew her heart wasn’t really in it.

Peepers raised an eyelid “Hang on to wha-ahaha!”

His question turned into a yelp as Sylvia took off. The surrounding trees flickered into a green blur. Wind whipped over her mane and blew into his retina. Wander tossed his hat overhead, whooping. Peepers realized he had both hands tight around Wander’s neck.

“You give great hugs,” Wander chirped.

Peepers scowled. “I do not!”

_But Hater does._

As they ran, Peepers let his mind go blank for the first time in days.  Hater’s absence had left a gaping hole in his heart. All the panic and worry, the homesickness, bitterness and grief was giving him a stomachache.

Wander was full of endless sunshine. Peepers couldn’t understand it. How many times had Hater and Wander ended up in mortal danger together? And every time, Sylvia had helped him rescue their idiots. Peepers didn’t hate Wander. He just hated what happened whenever Wander got near the skeleton.

With a twinge, Peepers remembered the time Hater had set Captain Tim on Wander. Unsurprisingly, Wander ended up snuggling and kissing Tim, turning the whole plan upside down. Hater had totally flown off the handle. Nobody touched Tim-Tim. One planet-wide chase later, and Wander orbelled off. Hater lost a tooth. Peepers remembered the horrible crack as Hater tripped over that rock. They’d spent that night curled up together, snuggling under the blankets. Hater kept drooling and muttering nonsense about revenge while Peepers fed him applesauce and soothed his wounded pride. Once the new tooth had grown in, they celebrated with a whole gallon of Fudgy Pudgy Vanilla. Peepers sat on his boyfriend’s shoulder to share. Hater painstakingly picked out all the nuts so they wouldn’t get stuck in Peepers’ eye.

Peepers shuddered. All the memories. All the grief. A small, choked sob escaped him.

“Don’t worry, Peepers,” Wander said very quietly. He gave Peepers’ shoulder a brief squeeze. Peepers flushed and wiped at his eye. “Hey, Syl, how ’bout we stop here?” Wander suggested.

Peepers looked around. They’d stopped on the bank of a deep, slow moving stream. It wove between the thick trunks like a glittering ribbon. Soft green grass carpeted the ground. A three-eyed tadpole used its tongue to snatch a bug the size of a fist out of the air.

 _Eww._ Peepers shivered in disgust as he slid to the ground. It felt good sit on the soft grass and feel the cool wind after so long in Dominator’s ship.

A setting sun dimmed the green light above as it sank. Sylvia plopped down beside him and stretched out. Wander disappeared into the surrounding underbrush.

Peepers watched him go. “Should we follow him?”

“Nah, he’s fine,” Sylvia yawned. She opened an eye and sniffed the air. “Something’s burning.”

Peepers rolled his eye. “Ha, ha, very funny,” he said sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious. Jeez, your skin!”

Peepers glanced down. _Grop._ Sylvia was right. How did he miss this? Infection. The skin on his chest was swollen. Pus dribbled from half-popped blisters. And the smell. No doubt about it. a reek _this_ bad couldn’t be good.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Sylvia sniffed at his burns and recoiled with a snort.

Her nostrils flared with sudden understanding. “Jeez, that’s why you jumped…I hit one of those things. Oh, boy. I’m so sorry!” 

She didn’t give him a chance to reply. Sylvia called over her shoulder into the gathering darkness. “Wander, get back here! I need help! It’s an emergency! Hurry!”


	6. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater's looking, and things aren't going well.

Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four agonizing hours, and Dominator hadn’t called back.

Hater was getting frantic. “Dominator’s got him, I can’t find her, and she has Peepers!” he roared in frustration.

Andy kept examining and reexamining the footage. Dominator’s sneer was too much. Hater couldn’t stomach looking at that hideous grin.

“Sir, we need to wait for another update,” Bean said gently.

Hater punched the wall. “We _need_ to find Peepers! I’m done waiting!”

His head hurt. His stomach was in knots. And he might’ve broken a knuckle. Hater wrung his fist in the air, muttering furiously. Bean ducked out of the way.

Every available Watchdog was out searching. The Skullship’s control room was now control central. Andy hunched over his screen. Bean listened to incoming reports and made notes on loose paper. Hater stopped hopping and sat back down to examine a huge map of the entire galaxy. Tim had taken refuge under Hater’s chair. He crouched out of sight, but occasional whimpering growls came out of the shadows.

Dozens of reports flooded in. Bean did his best to answer the calls, helped by Greg, Hater’s chief mechanic. They shouted the bad news back in turns.

“Neckbeard hasn’t seen him!”

“No sign of Commander Peepers on Cluckon.”

“Congenial Rock’s a negative!”

With every check-in, Hater crossed off another planet. There was more red ink than actual planets now.  _We’re running out of places to look!_

Hater crumpled up the map and hurled it across the room. Greg ducked to avoid it. The paper completely missed the trash can.

Bean scooped it up. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, and rested a hand on his shoulder.

Hater shook it off and rubbed at his eyes.  _Empty words, that’s all anybody on the damn ship has to say! I know how you’re feeling. It must be so hard. Everything will be fine, don’t worry. Be strong._ Hater swallowed an angry growl. _Empty words and hollow promises won’t bring him home. Grop, I miss Peepers!_

Greg nudged Bean away. “Leave him alone,” he said, very gently. “Keep an eye on the phones.”

As he passed, Greg took the balled-up map from Bean. He spread it back out in front of Hater.

“Get that outta here!” Hater snarled through his fingers.

Greg didn’t react. “Sir, I’m not going to say anything. You must miss Commander Peepers, and I’m sorry.”

Hater bristled. He opened his mouth to say something, but Greg beat him to it. “It’s not useless, sir. Try to think of it as a checklist. We don’t know where the Commander is, but we do know where he’s not,” Greg said, and tapped the scrawled off-planets. “That narrows the search areas, and I know it doesn’t seem it right now, but that’s a good thing. We’re making progress.”

He returned to the control panel. Hater reached up until he found his half of the necklace. Best Buds. He squeezed the charm until the metal dug into his glove. _Greg has a point._ _Not that I’ll ever him that. We’ll find Peepers. I just hope it’s soon._


	7. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship turns up in an unlikely place.

“Wander, we need help over here!” Sylvia shouted.

A bright orange head poked around her flank. Wander noticed the foul odor, and blanched. “Ugh, what died?”

Peepers rubbed at the necklace, trying to distract himself. _Don’t scratch,_ he told himself. _Just ignore the pain!_

“Dominator,” Peepers gritted out. “When I was with her, she burned me, bad. I think the burns got infected.”

Sylvia shook her head. “Gotta be an infection. How long were you with her?”

“Few days,” Peepers muttered. He held his half of the heart close. _Best buds don’t quit. I’m not gonna die out here! I’m going home to my man!_

In silence, Wander started pulling things out of that tacky-looking hat. Offensively bright green bandages. Bundles of puffy gauze.

Peepers hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped. Being stubborn wouldn’t help. Wander would do whatever it took to save Peepers’ life. Might as well surrender to the inevitable.

“All right, Wander,” Peepers sighed. “Go ahead.”

Wander smiled. “You’ll be patched up in no time.”

He moved with practiced ease, mopping away the pus and spreading burn cream on what had once been pale pink flesh. Peepers let him work, one hand still holding his pendant. Wander nudged an inflamed blister, right under Peepers’ eye.

“Watch it!” Peepers spat.

“Sorry about that, can’t really see what I’m doin’ with your chest covered.”

Peepers felt his eye get hot. This was _not_ good. Peepers hated taking his shirt off. In front of Hater, that was different.

“Gimme a second,” Peepers muttered.

He flexed. Usually, his shirt spilt apart. This time, he fell back, hissing in pain.

“No good,” Sylvia pointed out.

 _I hadn’t noticed!_ Peepers thought sarcastically. He struggled upright, clawing at his stinging chest. before he could blink, Sylvia tore the top half of his uniform apart.

A breath of cool night air rushed over his shoulders and eased the sting of the burns. Peepers shivered, enjoying the soothing relief. _Man, that’s nice._ “T-thanks,” he mumbled.

Sylvia folded up the torn shirt. “Don’t mention it,” she said. She stared at his exposed chest. Peepers noticed her nostrils flare. His belly tightened. _That’s not good. She’s tough. If Sylvia’s wincing, this infection’s gotta be bad._

Peepers took a deep breath and forced himself to look. His blood went cold. Yellow pus dribbled from the blister under his eye and streamed over his chest. Crusty-edged burns covered his ribs. Peepers hadn’t seen his chest in days. His skin wasn’t shiny and pink anymore. It was an angry red rash. He had to close his eye.

_My Grop, that’s horrible! Ugh!_

“Nothing we can’t fix, Peepers. Don’t worry,” Wander said gently. He applied more pressure. “A little more cream on the burns, and you’ll be good as new, Commander.”

Peepers kept his eye squeezed shut. He couldn’t look. _It’s just like with Hater. This must be what it’s like to have somebody else fussing over you._

He was usually the one tending and soothing Hater. Peepers wasn’t used to being coddled and fussed over. It was weird to have Wander spreading lotion over his bare skin. But Peepers knew it was helping. Slowly but surely, the unbearable itch faded. He could feel the blisters deflating. Peepers sighed in relief.

Wander chuckled. “You feel any better, Peepers?”

“Yeah,” Peepers breathed. He opened his eye. “Yeah, I do!”

“Glad to hear,” Wander said.

Peepers winced as Sylvia cuffed him gently. “Well, you sure as heck smell better,” Sylvia snorted.

“Sylvia!” Wander scolded.

Peepers laughed. It was nice to be able to joke after so long. A fresh surge of homesickness washed over him. Hater made him laugh. Being away from home hurt. _I haven’t laughed like this since Dominator found me._

Peepers held his necklace out of the way as Wander wrapped gauze across his chest. It felt like a being enclosed in a slightly itchy hug.  _Nice to have my chest covered again._

Wander bundled the bandages back into the hat as Sylvia washed the shredded shirt in the stream. “We’ll fix it in the morning,” she said. “Let it soak overnight, and wash the gunk out of the fabric.”

"Thanks," Peepers said. "Really, thanks, guys."

Wander fished his banjo out of the hat. He looked surprised. "Anytime. We won't refuse help when there's something we can do."

"Seriously, though," Peepers tried to keep his voice casual. His belly was writhing with shame. "Look, I know Hater and I haven't been..." He swallowed. "We weren't exactly neighborly, went we first met you two. And I'm sorry, you know, for everything, and I really appreciate everything you've done so far, with the burns and letting me tag along with you, and just...everything. Wander, Sylvia, thank you."

Sylvia smirked. Tears of joy brimmed in Wander's eyes. Peepers stared awkwardly at the ground.

"What changed, Peepers?" Sylvia asked teasingly.

"We weren't friends before," Peepers mumbled.

_When Hater ever hears about this, he'll never forgive me. If he ever hears about this._

"Friends," Wander agreed with a sniffle.

Sylvia raised a hand. Peepers stared at her.

"Don't leave me hanging, you optic nerd," Sylvia said.

Very slowly, Peepers gave her a high-five. 

"Now, it's official. We're friends."

Peepers caught himself smiling. "Friends."

Siting alongside his new friends, Peepers kicked off his boots to let his aching feet soak in the cold water. Something beeped from inside his left boot.

“What the-”

He fished around inside it. Something hard brushed his fingers. Peepers pulled it out. His backup communicator.

_How the hell did I forget about this?_

Behind him, Wander plucked at his faithful banjo. Sylvia had started a fire. Peepers forgot how to think. He turned the communicator over. Checking it, examining it. 

“Watcha got there, Peepers?”

Peepers jumped. Wander peeked over his shoulder. “Ooh, a communicator! Fancy!”

“Where’d you get one of those way out here?” Sylvia asked.

Peepers held it close to his chest. “It was in my boot, I forgot about it!” he snapped defensively.

Wander patted his back. “You found it. That’s what counts.”

“You think you’re gonna have service?” Sylvia sounded skeptical.

Peepers smirked. “I don’t need service to reach him.”


	8. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater gets the first good news in a few days.

Hater couldn’t sleep. The bed was too big without Peepers. He couldn’t bear it. without that small little body curled up beside him, Hater just lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Curled up in his basket, Tim hissed softly. _At least_ he _can sleep_ , Hater thought bitterly.

In the two days since Dominator’s call, Hater had not moved from this spot. Two whole days spent lying in bed, enveloped in misery. The Watchdogs steered clear of him. It was like Hater’s despair had suddenly filled the whole ship. Even Andy’s weird little Watchdog show didn’t broadcast. Hater rolled onto his side. Exhaustion clawed at his chest, but he still couldn’t sleep.

“Peeps, I’m sorry we fought!” he bellowed. “Please be safe. And please come home.” His voice trailed off in a dry sob. _I miss you._

In the corner, he heard Tim growl. Was it Tim?

Someone was laughing. A horrible, shrill laugh that rang inside Hater’s skull. In his arms, Peepers was dying, drowning in his own blood. Dominator kept laughing, laughing, as Hater rocked his Watchdog, pleading with him. “Don’t die, c’mon, Peepers, stay with me, keep fighting!”

Peepers kept sucking on the air, but he couldn't breathe. Hater listened to the horrible, choking gaps, cradling Peepers close. Dominator had split Peepers open. His guts splayed out of his belly, and Peepers clawed feebly at Hater's face.

Hater kept rocking him. "Don't you give up! Peepers, Peepers!"

Peepers opened his blood-soaked eye and beeped.  _What the-_

Hater jerked awake, thrashing in a tangle of blankets. His communicator was ringing. Hater grumpily answered the call. “Whaddya want? It’s late,” he demanded. “I trying…t-trying…”

Peepers. He was looking at Peepers. “How…”

“Hey, buddy!”

Hater froze. “Wander?”

“I haven’t seen you in a week, and the first thing out of your mouth is ‘Wander.’ Wow. I’m flattered.”

That shrill, nagging voice! No one else sounded like that!

Hater almost dropped the communicator. He was shaking so badly. “Peepers, oh, thank Grop!” Ignoring the tears in his eyes, Hater beamed at his Watchdog. “It’s all right, I see you. Hatey’s here.” His voice cracked as he spoke.

Peepers wiped at his eye, which was streaming. “You sure you’re not looking for Wander?”

A watery chuckle rose from the back of Hater’s throat. For a wonderful second, the distance between them disappeared. “I'd never look for anyone else, baby boy! Oh, Peepers, my Peepers," he sobbed and laughed, trying to stay focused. "Peepers, where the hell are you?” Hater demanded. “Who’s with you?”

“Take it easy, Hater, I’m not alone,” Peepers soothed. “But-”

Hater’s spine went cold. “What’s wrong? Is it Dominator?”

“No, no,” Peepers cut him off. “It’s not her! It’s Wander.” He closed his eye and sighed. “And Sylvia.”

Wander’s furry orange face appeared over Peepers’ shoulder. “Hey, Hatey!”

“’Sup?” Sylvia’s hand waved vaguely from Peepers’ other side.

 _My Peepers and my two greatest enemies. Ironic. Is this what irony feels like? Huh. Weird._ Hater waved his hand impatiently. “Yeah, yeah, hi, whatever. Listen, Peeps, where are you?”

Peepers only shook his eye. “Good question.”

“You don’t…” Hater fought back his rising panic. “OK, OK. Describe it, then.”

Peepers shrugged. “It’s like an _oven_ out here. Swampy jungle. Oh, yeah. Lots of jungle.”

“Jungle…” Hater shuddered. Hopelessness settled into his marrow. They stared at each other. Peepers knew as well as he did, this planet’s location was a mystery.

“Any ideas?” Sylvia asked, still out of sight.

Peepers held Hater’s gaze. “Track the signal.”

Hater leapt off the bed, crashing in a tangle of bedsheets. “No,” he shouted. “Peepers, no! It’ll drain the battery!”

“I know.” The Watchdog sounded tired, resigned. His eye glimmered with pain. He pulled at the chain around his neck.

Hater ignored his tears and held up his own half. “Best buds,” he mouthed. Hater had to clear his throat. “Don’t worry, Peeps. I’ll getcha home.”

There was a very heavy pause. Unsaid things made it hard for Hater to breathe. Hater blinked furiously, memorizing every inch of his boyfriend’s eye, like he’d never have another chance to look at Peepers again. once he was sure he’d see nothing but his Watchdog, Hater stood up. “OK, Peeps, walk me through this.”

“Head for the control bridge,” Peepers instructed.

“I’m bringing you home,” Hater repeated firmly.

The control room was deserted. _Half past three in the morning, and I’m up. Huh. This irony stuff, it’s weird._

Peepers kept talking. “Put the communicator in the dish.”

The massive screen lit up. Hater shielded his eyes against the bright glare. OK. Options. Charge battery. Check remaining balance. “This thing’s a landline?” Hater asked. “I’m on an allowance? Is everyone on the Skullship on one, too?"

“Just you, Lord Takeout. You get so many minutes a month,” Peepers admitted. There was more than a little amusement in his voice. “You can only order pizza so many times.”

“You eat the pizza, too, Peepers! Don’t lie, I know how much you like pepperoni!” Hater rolled his eyes, fighting a laugh. “Whatever. OK, what else?” He kept scrolling.

Update contacts. Import pictures.

“Trace signal!” Hater shouted triumphantly. “Yeah! I’ve got it!”

Wander and Sylvia cheered. Peepers was beaming. “Nicely done.” His voice cracked. “I love you.”

“Ugh, don’t be sappy, Peeps,” Hater said gruffly. “Don’t tell me what I already know!” He caught a glance at the sudden flash of hurt in Peepers’ eye.

_Man, that was a stupid thing to say!_

Hater dropped his voice so Sylvia and the furry freak couldn’t hear him. “I love you, too, Peepers. I promise I’ll getcha home soon. Love you, baby boy. I love you so much."

Peepers blinked hard. Tears glittered in that beautiful big eye. "I love you, too, Hater."

The screen went dead. Hater stopped just long enough to scrub the wetness from his eyes. “Let’s get going.”

He punched the override button. Instantly, the ship lit up. Confused grunts from the lower levels announced the troops waking up.

Hater, suddenly wide awake, activated the PA system. “I want everyone up! Now! We’re going on a rescue mission! Let’s move, people!”


	9. Words of Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peepers gets advice from Sylvia.

“You sure he knows what he’s doing?” Sylvia asked for what felt like dozenth time.

Peepers swallowed his frustration. “Yes, I’m positive! He’s not a complete idiot!”

She shrugged. As she turned away, Peepers stifled a wail. _But he’s my idiot._

It was pitch black out now. The temperature dropped as the sunlight faded, but the rocks underfoot were still hot enough to start a fire.

“How’d you know that’d work?” Sylvia asked, blinking in surprise.

Peepers dusted himself off as best he could. “I _am_ a soldier, zbornak. I know how to survive out here.”

He kicked a loose rock back into place. He’d made a small well of the biggest rocks he could find and the heat was helping a huge pot of water to boil.

Wander glanced up from plucking his banjo. “Nobody’s complaining! You are one tough camper.”

“I’m a Watch…” Peepers sighed. It didn’t matter. “Thanks, Wander. That means a lot.”

It was weird. How easily they’d come together. Peepers hadn’t said it out loud, how much it meant to have company again. Peepers swallowed hard. Hater’s absence had left a hole in his heart.

The water hissed as Sylvia added more vegetables to the stew. “Not much,” she admitted. “Don’t know what’s safe around here.”

“Don’t take the risk, good idea,” Peepers shrugged. She looked surprised. “It’s food,” he continued. “It’s better than nothing.”

Wander nodded. “That looks amazing, Syl.”

“It’s not food court enchiladas,” Sylvia said, winking at Peepers.

“I’ll live,” he said, smiling. “I don’t like enchiladas, they give me heartburn.”

They sat in a circle, close to the heated stones. Peepers stretched out on the grass. It was a relief not to be in Dominator’s cell anymore.

“I didn’t know you were so picky,” Wander said teasingly.

Peepers snorted. “I’m not picky! I’m just careful. Hater’s a handful. All this stress, gives me stomachaches.”

“And you’re together because…?” Sylvia dragged out the sentence.

Peepers felt his eye get hot.

Wander glared at Sylvia. “That’s not polite! Don’t listen to her, Peepers. I’m just glad you and Hater are happy. Ignore her, she gets cranky when she’s hungry.”

Peepers sat back up. He avoided their eyes. “It’s fine. He does, too.”

There were a few seconds of intensely uncomfortable silence. Peepers met her gaze, stare for stare. “He’s _my_ handful.” The Watchdog swallowed. “I didn’t think anyone, that’d I ever…until him. Why does it matter?” he snapped. “We’re not hurting anybody. I’m allowed to be happy!”

Peepers was losing control. His shouts echoed in the darkness. His voice got louder and louder. Every ounce of anger and bitterness was spilling out of him. The heartache. His secret despair that he’d never get back. _How much I miss him._

“I love him, and I know he loves me!” Chest heaving, Peepers clenched and unclenched his fists. “I thought you’d understand! Having someone who’s…caring about…having a fool for a best friend! But Hater’s so much more than that! He’s’ the only person I can talk to. And he listens to it! He cares! And who else is gonna take care of him?! Running off…conquering planets, getting into fights with Dominator and Awesome and Sourdough! And I’m not there! He’s on his own…and I _miss_ him!” Peepers howled. He dropped to his knees and started crying. He cried until it hurt to breathe.

It was so humiliating to go to pieces like this. Especially in front of Wander and Sylvia. But he couldn’t help it. Peepers finally cried himself out after what seemed like an hour. The tears just stopped. He couldn’t cry anymore. They were gone.

Peepers folded his arms under his eye and curled up. Wander didn’t say anything. He just patted the Watchdog’s back. Peepers hated himself. Collapsing in a sobbing heap?

_What’s wrong with me?!_

Sylvia pushed a bowl toward him with her tail. “Eat,” she advised.

Peepers turned away. “I’m not hungry.”

Just looking at the stew made him feel sick. He couldn’t stomach the idea of eating.

“You gotta eat something,” Sylvia nudged him lightly. “C’mon.”

“No.” He pushed her hand away.

Wander simply pulled the bowl back toward the fire. “No problem. It’ll be here if you change your mind,” he said gently. “Don’t force yourself to eat, Peepers. Get some rest.”

Peepers tried to look grateful. But he was sure he only grimaced. Wander seemed to understand. Sylvia sighed, but her voice was low as she set aside her own food and laid down. “Well, let’s call it a night.”

Wander extinguished the fire with a hatful of water. A cloud of steam rose from the pit and swirled up into the night sky.

Peepers shifted, trying to get comfortable. No good. Something thick and scaly wrapped itself around middle. Peepers winced. Any second now, a snake would be biting him. But this wasn’t a snake. It was Sylvia’s tail.

Very gently, she pulled him in close. Peepers blinked. Wander chuckled. “You aren’t sleeping alone. C’mon, there’s plenty of Sylvia to go around.” He popped his hat off and slipped into it, like a sleeping bag. He settled down on Sylvia’s back and was snoring in ten minutes.

Peepers exchanged a glance with Sylvia. Her eyes were soft. “I don’t bite ya know,” she teased.

“Yeah. I know.” Peepers huddled down, pressing his side to her warm flank. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sylvia draped her head over her tail, both eyes already closed. “I’m sorry I asked about you and Hater.”

Peepers shrugged. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overreacted. It’s just hard being…being away.” A huge, shuddering sigh escaped him. “I’m not a wanderer, I’m a lapdog.”

Sylvia’s eyes snapped open. “Dominator said that.” It was a statement, not a question.

Peepers looked away.

“Listen to me.” Sylvia brought her snout down, forcing him to look into her eyes. “Are you crazy? You are _not_ a lapdog. You’re a flarpin’ solider, a Commander! Don’t you dare listen to Dominator. You’re the most dedicated alien I’ve ever known. You’ve never lost faith in Hater. How many times have you rushed in to save his butt? And I’ve never seen you look back or think twice. Not one damn time. That’s not a lapdog, Peepers. That’s a best friend doing his job. And we both know there’s nothing more important than our boys.”

They both looked up at Wander, still fast asleep on Sylvia’s broad back. Peepers saw her mouth twitch upwards in a smile.

Peepers fingered the heart pendant and slumped down, lost in thought. Sylvia was right. He knew that. Nobody else would jump in to save Hater. Half the Watchdogs ran in the other direction. Peepers was the only one who ran toward the danger. Toward Hater. Peepers’ heart ached for his skeleton, but her praise eased his pain. At least a little.

“You’re not some pet, Peepers,” Sylvia went on, her voice serious. “You are, without a doubt, the single most devoted little spitfire in this galaxy. Not a lapdog. Not a besotted little idiot. You’re a statement. Before all this, before Dominator, I didn’t think it was possible to love someone like you love Hater. I didn’t imagine a love that strong could even exist. Peepers, you proved me wrong. What the two of you have is something precious. Impossibly special. And I know Hater loves you just as much as you adore him. Remember that stupid dinner party? When Sourdough was looking for a new host? Hater carried you out, he actually made a point of holding your unconscious butt out in front of him. He protected you from those stupid soldiers. And when we gave all those presents to the Watchdogs? We were in the vents, Peepers, and we saw how panicked Hater was. How upset he got after you went happy.”

Peepers had to wipe his eye. a trickle of wetness escaped from the corner of his vision.

Sylvia flicked him with her tail. “And you two are a team. Always. Win or lose, you always have each other’s backs. Don’t be ashamed of that.”

A small sniffle rose up from Peepers. Then the Watchdog started crying again, his whole body quivering as he sobbed. Peepers tried to say something. To tell her what she’d said meant more than planter conquest. But he couldn’t speak. Instead, he flung his arms around Sylvia’s neck. She stiffened for half a second, then returned the hug, holding him tightly. Peepers redoubled his grip, hiccupping. “T-thanks, zbornak,” he muttered into her ear.

She winked at him, her own eyes looking suspiciously wet. “Don’t mention it, you optic nerd,” Sylvia teased him.

In silence, they settled back down, sleeping in a huddle, warm and safe against the night chill. Wrapped in her thick tail, Peepers felt the first real flicker of hope that he might just get home yet.


	10. Tick Tock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominator makes things more interesting.

The Skullship had never been more active. Watchdogs, scads of them, worked around the clock to locate Peepers. Their chatter was all business, technical jargon that meant nothing to Hater. They slept in shifts, relieving each other every six hours.

Hater didn’t bother the sleep. He was too nervous. Every time he felt a yawn coming on, Hater started chugging coffee. All the caffeine in his system made him even crankier than usual. “Anything?” he demanded.

Greg, the chief mechanic, knelt close to his screen. “We’ve got a positive I.D. on the signal, sir. Still a northwest course, nothing new, though.”

Hater snorted exasperatedly. _Nothing new._

“Keep at it,” he snarled. “Nobody moves till we get something.”

Hater started pacing around the control room. Another night wasted. That made nine damn days. He stopped to rub at his face. His eyes burned and itched from lack of sleep. But he refused to give in.  _I’m not resting till he’s home!_

“Send copies of the coordinates to six Eyefighters. I want them flying in ten!” Hater forced down a yawn. “And only send guys who’ve slept. We don’t need any more missing.”

Greg typed furiously at his station. “Got it. And, sir?”

“What?”

“It’s your mother-in-law. She’s calling again.”

_Dammit!_

Hater closed his eyes. Elara. She’d been calling nonstop since yesterday afternoon. _Good thing she doesn’t know he’s missing._

“Put her on the screen in the briefing hall downstairs,” Hater sighed.

He took the long way down, deliberately wasting time. Elara’s picture was waiting for him. The feed from her phone was too small for the huge screen. Her eye was pixelated. It would’ve been funny. If he wasn’t trying to lie to her about Peepers.

Hater hitched on a smile that didn’t fit. “Hey, Elara.”

“Oh, hi, honey,” Elara gushed. “How are you?”

Hater shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

_My heart’s shattered and the only alien I’ve ever loved is on some Grop-forsaken planet halfway across the galaxy._

His stomach dropped as she looked around the empty hall. “I haven’t heard from Peepers. Is he…”

Hater’s throat felt very dry. “He…he had to run out. Urgent conquest stuff.”

Elara frowned. “He’s going to miss the reunion.”

“What a shame,” Hater muttered under his breath.

“What?”

She’d heard him. Hater tried to keep that painful smile intact as Elara folded her arms. “Hater, you’re hiding something,” Elara said in a dangerous voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Hater opened his mouth. “Uhhh…”

_I’m not telling you a lot of things. That your son is missing. We didn’t wait to get married. I’m allergic to bingleberries and just pretend to like your fruitcake. We use those awful sweaters you give us every year as lining in Tim’s bed._

He had to swallow. “Elara, truth is…Peepers isn’t returning your calls because he wants to surprise you. He’s out getting a huge, surprise…thingy…to bring to the family party, or whatever.”

Ten seconds of complete silence followed the end of his sentence. Hater felt beads of sweat trickling down his spine.

“Oh, what a _dear!_ Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Hater heaved a sigh of relief. _She bought it!_

“Peepers wanted to keep it a secret,” Hater said. His face hurt from smiling. “And you know me…blabbermouth.”

Elara beamed. “I won’t say a word! Details, details. You must know something!”

Under cover of her babbling, Hater relaxed. Someone tugged urgently at his cloak. Greg.

“What?” Hater mouthed.

Greg looked ready to be sick. His eye was ashen. Hater crouched low so Greg could whisper in his ear. “Sir, it’s Lord Dominator.”

_Peepers!_

“Listen, Elara, I’ve got another call.” Hater tried his best to look apologetic. “I’ll tell him you called.”

“All right, dear,” Elara said. “Talk to you soon. Kisses!”

As the screen went dark, the smile slipped from Hater’s face. “How long’s she been waiting?” he asked Greg.

Greg eyed his watch. “Not-not long, sir,” he gulped. “I’ll put her up.”

Hater plopped down into his throne. His legs were too shaky to carry his weight. Running his slippery hands over the well-worn leather, the skeleton remembered countless hours spent playing video games until Peepers finally dragged him into bed. How they would review invasion plans with Peepers perched on the armrest. And, more painfully then anything else, how Peepers would curl up on his chest so they could cuddle.

A hard lump in Hater’s throat made it hard to swallow. He cleared his throat and straightened up. “Greg, go upstairs. I’m taking the call alone.”

Greg scampered off, his boots squeaking. The sound of his footsteps didn’t quite die before Dominator’s face filled the screen. Hater tried wiping his hands dry on his cloak without being too obvious.

“You took your time,” Dominator snapped.

“I was busy.” Hater took a deep breath. _Calm down. Think about Peepers._

Dominator sniffed coldly. “Busy. Huh. I’ve got your little lapdog and you’re too busy to answer the phone,” she sneered. “You might want to rethink your priorities.”

Hater couldn’t help it. He bared his teeth. “I answered the call. Whaddya want?!”

“It’s time to make things a little more interesting. You’re taking too long, and I’m getting bored.” She pretended to yawn.

Hater swallowed back a wave of anger. _Taking too long? I’ve been on my feet from the beginning!_

Dominator waved a hand in the air. Hater saw a small remote clenched in her fist.  “You’re not even trying, so, I’m giving you a little incentive to up your game.”

Hater’s spine went cold. _That doesn’t sound good._

“That planet he’s on?” Dominator spun in her chair, lazily folding her arms behind her head. “Yeah, it’s a bomb. I’ve totally tricked it out. Minefields and explosives, the whole package. You wanna know the best part?" She leaned into the screen and dropped her voice to an excited whisper. "It’s all remote-controlled! I don't even need to get off my throne!"

Hater could see that maniac glint in her eye. For a second, the air froze in his throat. He couldn't breathe.

"I’m giving you twenty-four hours. If you don’t get to him in time, I’ll blow him up.”

“No!” Hater roared.

“You’d better get ‘busy’ then.” Dominator air-quoted the word. “Or your precious little lapdog’s gonna be splattered across half this galaxy.”

 _No, no, no, no, no!_ Drowning in panic, Hater pointed a finger directly into her face. “Don’t you dare hurt my Peepers!” The words came out gritted. His jaw was clenched so tightly.

A bar appeared across the bottom of the screen. It was counting down. Twenty-three hours, fifty-nine seconds.

"Clock's ticking." Dominator waved the remote. “Tick tock, Hater.”

She cut the feed, leaving Hater alone in the dark, staring helplessly up at the blank screen.


	11. Earthquake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little shaky.

Peepers nestled down in the warm twist of Sylvia’s tail. Her scales weren’t prickly, or sharp at all. The scales formed a soft mesh that felt more like water than hard skin. Absently, he stroked the necklace hidden under his newly repaired uniform. Best Buds. The crippling loneliness in his chest, the pain of living without Hater, had eased somewhat. Not much, but being with Wander and Sylvia was so, so much better than being alone. He sighed contentedly, silently drawing comfort from the aliens nearby.

The ground shuddered.

“Earthquake!”

His shout woke the other two right up. Wander rolled off Sylvia’s back, already wide awake. His face was unusually serious. “What is it?”

Peepers pulled Sylvia up. “I think it’s an earthquake. The whole…everything just…” Peepers waved his arms around wildly. “Not a boom…more like a rumble.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just imagine it?” Sylvia asked grumpily. She stretched out her back and yawned. “I didn’t hear any-”

Another violent tremor shook the earth underfoot. Peepers dropped to all fours, bracing himself. Sylvia’s tail snaked out, pulling him up onto her back.

Already in the saddle, Wander smiled encouragingly. “Ready?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Peepers snapped. “We need to go!”

“Then hang on!” Sylvia tore off, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. Around them, small fissures broke open and spurts of steam hissed through the cracks. One or two trees had wide split in their massive trunks.

“Whoo,” Wander whistled. “Two little earthquakes did all this?”

“I’ve got a feeling this is just getting started,” Sylvia said grimly.

She leaped over a fallen monolith and landed heavily on the other side. Something cracked. Peepers winced. Sylvia howled. Wander and Peepers were thrown from her back as her ankle pivoted under her body. It was twisted at an impossible angle.

Peepers felt his belly clench. _That’s not good._

Picking himself up from where he’d fallen, he scrambled to her side. Sylvia rocked back and forth, nursing her ankle. Her whole face was screwed up in pain.

“Hold still, lemme look.” As he touched it, Sylvia cried out. “I know it hurts, and I’m sorry.” Peepers kept his voice low and gentle. Countless hours of tending to Hater were really paying off. Keeping his voice low, Peepers hushed soothingly. “You’re gonna be just fine. It’s a twisted ankle, but it’s not broken. OK, Syl, OK. This thing isn’t safe, you need to keep off it.” 

Sylvia spoke through clenched teeth. “If I can’t walk, how are we supposed to get off this flarpin’ deathtrap?!”

_Trap?_

Peepers closed his eye. ice cold panic flooded his belly. “It’s a trap.”

“What?”

“It’s a trap,” Peepers moaned. “This thing, the planet, the whole thing’s a death trap. Set up by Dominator!”

Wander went pale. “How d’you figure?” he asked.

Peepers met Wander’s gaze. “Think about it. Dominator took my blaster, and your orbble juice. So that’s no weapons, no way to call for help, no way off the planet.”

“Then it’s a big, sick game,” Sylvia groaned.

Wander opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something cheerful, but closed it again. Peepers shivered. _If Wander can’t think of a positive outlook, you know it’s a bad sign._

“She could blow us up at any second.” Sylvia’s voice came out flat and hollow.

Wander shrugged. “She could.”

“Don’t push the panic button just yet, zbornak,” Peepers said. “We got hold of Hater. He’ll pull through.”

“Aww!” Wander squealed. “Peepers, that’s so sweet!”

Peepers smiled sheepishly. Even Sylvia grinned. She pushed him very lightly with her snout. “I didn’t know you were an optimist,” she teased him.

“It’s not optimism if I know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s optimism,” Wander assured. “You can’t fake that. It must be love!”

Peepers went bright red. Normally, he would’ve shouted, stormed and argued that _no,_ this was absolutely _not_ an optimistic outlook. He was just displaying confidence in his overlord. But, all at once, Peepers realized he didn’t want to deny his feelings. He wanted to be understood and accepted. And he had all that here, with Wander and Sylvia.

Wander beamed. Sylvia rolled her eyes, but affectionately.

“Try not to look so smug, Wander,” Peepers mumbled. He shook himself. Back to work. “Hey, Wander, d’you have anything we can use for a splint inside that hat?”

Wander pulled his hat off and plunged his whole arm right in, down to the armpit. Sticking out his tongue, Wander fished around inside the hat for a few tense seconds, then, with a dramatic flourish, he pulled out a roll of...

“Tape?” Sylvia sounded skeptical.

Peepers shoved her playfully. “It’ll do, zbornak. Hold still, Sylvia.”

Peepers worked fast. Using a stick and the sparkly hat tape, he skillfully wrapped her ankle. It wasn’t pretty, but it was better than nothing. Sylvia stood up gingerly. Her leg wobbled slightly. Wander took one side, Peepers the other. With an arm around each of them, Sylvia managed to hop forward. It was slow going, but any movement was good.

“Faster than a rampaging potted plant,” Sylvia said sarcastically. “Moving at speeds that boggle the mind!”

Peepers snorted. “Easy, speed demon. Wait for us.”

Wander giggled. Sylvia ruffled his furry head, flicking the helmet down over Peepers’ eye at the same time. Peepers laughed.

The ground trembled. A distant pop. The explosion was far away, but it still sent a wave of hot air through the trees and into their faces.

“Let’s move!”

As they hopped and stumbled away from the blast zone, Peepers felt his heart jackhammering in his chest.  _Hater, wherever you are, hurry!_


	12. Planet Sighted

If Hater had moved any faster, he’d have broken the sound barrier. He couldn’t sit still. Hater ran from control room to launch bay to barracks to briefing hall and back again. Every available Watchdog was helping out. Greg lead the mechanics in the launch bay. Drills whirring, the teams checked every incoming and departing Eyefighter. Andy and Bean had the upstairs screens being monitored. All the while, the countdown clock was up on the main screen. Twelve hours and ten minutes.

Terror bubbled in Hater’s nonexistent stomach. He paced over and back, side to side, just to keep on moving. “Give me some good news,” he growled.

“ETA is down to nine hours,” Bean reported.

Hater waved his hand impatiently. “Yeah, yeah. Anything else?”

Andy stopped pummeling his keyboard. He stood still for half a second, then cheered so loudly, everyone jumped. “Sir, I’ve got it! Planet’s right head!”

Hater almost flattened him as he ran to see. “Where?!”

“Right there!” Andy pulled at the screen, enlarging a small shape until a glimmering hologram filled the room. “Less than an hour away!”

Bean coughed apologetically. “I, uh, I was looking at the wrong planet…”

Too relieved to care, Hater noogied Andy. His voice was rough with half-swallowed joy. “Attaboy. Let’s get moving!”

For once, Andy was right. The flight took less than half an hour. Hater’s heart sang with joy.  _I’m coming, Peepers!_

He couldn’t see anything but that blasted hunk of carbon keeping his baby boy prisoner. Seconds stretched into eons. All the while, the planet grew bigger and bigger. Hater could already feel that wiggly little weight against his cheek.

“Sir!”

Hater gripped the dashboard until the metal groaned.

“Sir!”

 _Not long now_ , Hater told himself. _Ten minutes, and this whole hellish nightmare will finally, finally be over!_

“Sir! It’s Lord Dominator!”

Hater blinked. Bean’s anguished yell finally made sense.

Hater couldn’t breathe. There was that horrible battle cruiser, alternately glowing red and blue, speeding toward them. Hater smashed his foot on the gas. The engine roared. The Skullship blasted down toward the planet, leaving a jet of fire behind. Bundles of shouting Watchdogs lost their footing at the steep angle of descent.

Electricity pounding in his marrow made Hater deaf to everything else. _C’mon! Go, go, go!_

He put all his weight down, willing his ship to go faster. Hater pulled them up short, 40 yards above the planet’s surface. They couldn’t get in any closer. The extra weight would trigger more explosions.

Hater activated the outer speakers and screamed. “Come home to me, buddy!”


	13. The Choice

Peepers heard him. Gasping for air, he squeezed Sylvia’s hand. “See?” he wheezed. “Told you!”

Sylvia shook her smoke-blackened head. “Shut up, Peepers. Nobody likes a show-off.”

A dozen more explosions had created a wide crack across the planet, equator to equator. Trees bent at crazy angles as their roots plunged into the new chasm. The closest tree, a massive old monarch, was the only one still upright. Peepers kept his eye on the Skullship. It was too high to reach. There was nowhere to go but up.

“Start climbing,” he ordered.

Wander eyed the huge tree. “Are you sure this is…”

“Don’t argue, just get going!”

Wander scrambled up the thick trunk like Tim climbing a wall.

Peepers nodded after him. “Sylvia, you too!”

“With this?” She waved the ankle in his retina.

Peepers bit back a snarl. “I’ll be right behind you. Tuck in your leg. Keep it close to your stomach. Use your arms. Upper body strength, zbornak!”

Together, they followed Wander up the tree, into the topmost branches. Right on cue, the long tongue slithered down to meet them.

“It’s too high, we can’t reach it!” Wander strained up, reaching with all his might. No use.

Peepers looked down. His heart broke. _There’s a way._

He stared at Wander and Sylvia. Not enemies now. Friends. His close friends reaching for their only hope. And below, more trees fell.

Peepers shoved something into Wander’s hand. “Give it to Hater!” he roared over the noise.

Wander didn’t move. “But what-”

“Brace yourselves!”


	14. Outside Realization

In the Skullship, Hater was panicking. “What the hell is he doing?!”

Peepers had reached the end of the branch. There was nowhere for him to go. Sylvia restrained Wander on their section of trunk. The furry spoon was thrashing wildly, obviously desperate to reach the Watchdog.

Hater looked at Peepers. His boyfriend’s expression was full of pained love. Hater saw Peepers’ knuckles tighten on his branch.

Hater knew what he was doing. “ _Peepers!”_


	15. The Sacrifice

Another explosion rattled the planet. The tree shuddered and started to slide down, back toward the pit. Roots snapped. Leaves fell like tears around them as Peepers slithered along a branch. Wander clung to Sylvia. He reached for Peepers, and shouted something. Peepers didn’t look back. He shimmed forward to the very tip of the tree. It sagged under his weight, groaning unpleasantly.

Peepers bellied down, making himself as heavy as possible.  _A bit more…_

The tree bent into a prefect arc. Peepers clung to the ends of his branch and smiled into the Skullship’s windows. Into Hater’s terrified face.  _Love you, Hater._

Peepers took a deep breath. Wander was shouting, trying to reach him. Sylvia held him fast, restraining him. Tear tracks broke through the grime on her snout. She nodded to Peepers.

Peepers nodded back.  _It’s now or never!_

“Hang on!” Peepers shouted to them.

He looked again at Hater. He wanted his last sight to be his electrical skeleton.

Peepers let go, and the world exploded.


	16. Aftermath

The tree sprang back, catapulting Wander and Sylvia right into the tongue’s center. With their sudden weight, it rolled upwards, tucking them into the ship. The Skullship hurtled away from the smoking rubble and charred remains of Dominator’s planet.

Wander was shaking. Sylvia held him close, muffling his sobs in her mane. Greg and the mechanics were first on the scene. They stared blankly at the grieving pair, their eyes glazed as Wander’s wails echoed eerily around the silent launch bay.

Greg heard thundering footsteps. He pulled his troops back, and they retreated, going back upstairs to break the news to the rest of the army.

Hater was instantly there, his skull bleached with horror. “Where is he?!”

Nobody answered. Nobody moved.

Hater felt numb. Pure terror sank its claws into his chest. _No._

Sylvia clutched Wander even tighter.

_No._

Wander held something out. Hater reached for it, his hand shaking. _No! No! No!_

He knew what he was holding. Hater closed his eyes, hoping against hope it wasn’t true. _Not Peepers. Not my Peepers!_

He forced himself to look, and there it was. Half of the necklace Peepers would’ve died for rather than give up. “No…”

It started as a soft moan that turned into a drawn-out wail of hopelessness and despair and unimaginable heartache. Hater pressed a kiss to the smoky heart. It smelled like Peepers. Hater felt his heart shatter into a million tiny shards. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing would ever matter again.

Down on his knees, Lord Hater cried. He cried for his Watchdog, cried until he couldn’t see.

Blinded by his own tears, Hater collapsed into a small ball. Something warm and solid pressed itself to his side. A furry bundle rested on his arm. Even Tim crawled out from wherever he’d been hiding and nested in Hater’s hood.

There were no words. Wander, Sylvia, and Captain Tim huddled close to Hater, sharing his grief for the smallest and loyalist friend anyone could ever have.

Hater stuffed his knuckles into his mouth to stifle his sobs.  _That’s it. all this time, worrying and hoping. All for nothing. Wasted._

_He’s dead._


	17. Surrender

Numb. That’s what he was. Totally numb. Hater didn’t retreat to his bedroom. The empty bed was too much to bear. He couldn’t stomach it. he couldn’t stay in the launch bay either. The floor was too uncomfortable. So he rolled out an old sleeping bag and moved into the empty briefing hall.

It was a mark of how heartbroken he was. The burning desire to chase Wander was gone. Though he’d never say it out loud, it was a comfort to have somebody else nearby. To share this burden of immeasurable grief.

Wander had commandeered the throne. He curled up, catlike, staring miserably into the distance. Sylvia, always loyal, huddled close by on a mound of borrowed pillows. Hater wrapped himself up in the sleeping bag and retreated into his cloak, hiding from everything. He had started wearing both halves of their necklace. Ironic. How the tiny metal heart was intact, but Hater’s was shattered beyond repair.

Nobody spoke. What could you say? This was an unspeakable, horrible feeling. A sensation of grief that was beyond physical. It weighed on your soul, crushing your core. It spread so quickly and took so much with it. So they sat in silence, trapped by crippling loss, united by their suffering.

The screen overhead turned on. Hater had his back to the monitor. He winced as blinding light flooded the room.

“Hater.” Sylvia’s voice was husky, but firm. “It’s her.”

It took all his strength to turn around and look. Dominator, her face triumphant, leered down at him. Hater felt sick. The smug smile playing on her lips was obscene.

“What?” Hater meant to sound loud and aggressive, but the word came out dry and brittle.

_He’s dead. You killed my baby. Isn’t that enough? What more can you take from me?_

“Wanted to congratulate you, Hater. You can really pick a showstopper. Not half bad.” She clapped, slow and sarcastic. The sound echoed in the silent room. “Two outta three. Not bad. Not bad at all. Nice twist ending, your pathetic little lapdog heroically sacrificing himself to save your two greatest enemies. Too be honest, I thought they’d rip each other apart before you could get to them, Hater. Funny how he died for these dorks. Had me on the edge of my seat. What a finale! Bravo,” she sighed, almost wistfully. “Too bad we can’t have an encore. Star attraction was blown to bits.”

Hater bared his teeth. Even with tears in his eyes, hot familiar anger was beginning to beat back grief. “You killed Peepers.”

“So?” Dominator choked on a laugh. “You’ve got an army of the same species, just choose another pet.”

“I’ll never replace Peepers,” Hater spat. “You killed my baby!”

“And? It was bound to happen anyway. Like I’d let him go home in one piece.” She flicked a speck of dust from her helmet. “Anyway, I’m gonna salvage this rumble, see if I can find a souvenir. Maybe I’ll find a piece of him for you to bury.”

A broken sob escaped from between Hater’s clenched teeth. Behind him, Wander let out a muffled wail, and Sylvia growled.

“What do you want?” Hater rasped, his voice cracking.

“I want to go over the terms of surrender.” She wasn’t smiling or jeering anymore. Dominator was all business. Cold, and efficient. “You’ve lost, Hater. There’s nothing left to fight for. And I think we’ve all had enough. You. My ship. One hour. We’ll go over the details.”

“Never!” Sylvia snarled. “We’ll keep fighting, no matter what!”

“Peepers would’ve wanted that,” Wander said quietly.

“No.”

Everyone stared. Hater closed his eyes, swallowing the pain and loss. “She’s right,” he whispered. “Enough’s enough. We don’t need…another…” he couldn’t say it.

“Hater, no!” Sylvia hissed.

Wander reached for his hand. Hater folded his arms and ignored the nomad’s whimpers. “Please, Hater. Don’t do this. Don’t give up,” Wander begged tearfully. “Peepers wouldn’t want…”

“I don’t know what he would want,” Hater sighed. “My baby…he’s dead. Don’t you understand? I’ve done. I’ve lost everything.”

_I’ve lost Peepers._

“No more games. That’s it. I’m done. You win, Dominator,” Hater said flatly.

Sylvia sighed heavily. Wander pawed desperately at Hater’s cloak. She pulled him away, and pulled Wander into a tight hug. “Shush,” she whispered. “Wander, it’s his choice. Let him grieve.”

Dominator clapped her hands together. “All right! Let’s make it official! I’ll see you later, Hater,” she sneered. “Later, losers.”

The screen went dead, and Hater’s sudden upsurge of anger fizzled out. He rested his chin on both arms, and surrendered himself to the cold oblivion of life without his Watchdog.


	18. The Reveal

He didn’t know where he was. Nothing seemed real. Everything around him was muted and sounded far away. The colors were too bright. Almost unnatural.

But this had to be real, Peepers told himself. Why else would he be bleeding?

Peepers rolled over. Everything ached. Fresh cuts covered his arms and dried blood crusted across his chest. His uniform, so tenderly repaired, was totally destroyed. His eye was throbbing. And he was still alive.

 _I’m alive!_ He would’ve cried tears of joy if his eye wasn’t so dry. Peepers managed to stand, clutching the wall for support.  _Wall?_

Under his gloves, a cold sheet of black steel pulsed and glowed. The lights flashing deep red, then ice-blue. Magma lights.  _Shit. Dominator’s ship. Of all places to end up!_

“You’re harder to kill than a space roach.”

Peepers froze. _Oh, crud!_

“Welcome back, lapdog,” Dominator said coldly. She leaned against the cell bars, examining her nails.

Peepers put his back against the wall. His legs were shaking too badly to hold him up. “Where’s Hater?”

“Probably on your ship, moping. You almost had _me_ convinced you were dead. Man, I blow that damn planet to smithereens, and you still come back! It took me weeks to wire all those explosives!”

For a horrible second, the room spun. Peepers staggered, unable to breathe. The air in his lungs solidified. _He thinks I died? Hater doesn’t know!_

Peepers tried to say something, but only managed a raspy squeak.

“I didn’t tell him otherwise, of course. This is _way_ more entertaining. You should’ve seen him, lapdog. My Grop, that’s priceless!” Dominator snickered.

The callous delight in her voice made Peepers’ skin crawl. _That’s my man! Don’t you dare make fun of him, you monster!_

She didn’t notice his furious shaking. Dominator leaned on her knees, wheezing. “The anguish, the tears, the suffering. I love watching you dorks suffer!”

Peepers spat angrily. Dominator looked coldly amused. “Real cute. I can see why he chose you.”

Her venom didn’t hurt. Instead, Peepers swelled with pride. “Took you long enough to notice, poser!” he sneered.

Dominator stopped laughing. “Poser?”

“Yeah,” Peepers hissed. “You’re just a silly little brat dressed up in a fancy costume trying way too hard to be taken seriously by actual villains!”

“I’ve conquered your whole galaxy!” Dominator snarled, foam flying from her lips.

Peepers wasn’t impressed. _Hater spits more brushing his teeth!_

“There’s more to being a bad guy than presentation!” Peepers spat. “You might wanna figure that out!”

Dominator let out a furious screech. She strained against the bars, making lunging swipes, trying to seize him.

_Gotcha!_

Peepers backed into a corner, just out of reach. “Keep trying, wannabe!”

And, just like he’d planned, Dominator flipped the switch. Peepers shot out of the cell before the bars were half up.

Peepers thundered down the mazelike halls. Left. Right. Another left.

“Get back here!” Dominator hollered.

Peepers laughed recklessly. Home was so close; he could taste it. _I’m coming home, Hater!_

Peepers turned another corner, and ran smack into a cluster of patrolling bots. For a second, they studied each other. Watchdog and machine, sizing each other up.

Peepers didn’t look back. He flung himself on the nearest bot, headbutting, kicking and punching. Sparks flew and bots crumpled under his furious attack.

“Stop him!”

Over the wave of robots, he saw it. A massive door labeled Main Controls. Peepers dropped to the ground and twisted his way forward, worming underneath the many legs. Dominator kept screaming, inarticulate with rage. A hard metal tentacle wrapped around Peepers’ ankle. He yelped. The bot jerked him backwards with careless ease. Peepers scrabbled desperately at the slick floor, looking for purchase.

Dominator seized him roughly by the scruff of the neck, her nails biting into his skin. “Not bad, runt,” she told him. “I’ll give you points for creativity.” She pulled back a fist. Peepers saw the glove double in size. A wave of heat pulsed from her clenched fingers. “Ready to turn up the heat?”

Peepers tensed. “Put one finger on me and I’ll break your nose again!”

Suddenly, one of the bots interceded. It stood in front of them, almost blocking the punch. Dominator hesitated, and Peepers relaxed. _She’s not gonna hit me. At least, not yet._

The bot saluted. “Lord Dominator,” it said. “The hour allotted as run. Lord Hater has arrived to arrange the articles of surrender.”

“No!” Peepers yelped.

For a second, Dominator looked torn, her eyes glittering with indecision. She kept biting her lip. Peepers hissed in pain as her nails bit deeper into his neck.

Dominator slammed her clenched fist to a bare stretch of wall. At her touch, an arch-like door spread across the wall, allowing them access to the throne room.

Peepers blinked in surprise. _Didn’t realize I’d come this far!_

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” Dominator muttered. She pointed down the hallway. “Bot 75, go get that simpering loser, now!”

The bot saluted and scuttled off.

Peepers writhed, still in Dominator’s fist. “Don’t you dare hurt him!” he spat.

“Shut up!” Dominator snarled.

Around them, her robotic army slid into position, forming an imposing wall of gleaming metal. Peepers kept wiggling. Dominator ignored him. Her expression was grim.

High-ceilinged and brightly lit, it was a stark contrast to Hater’s briefing hall. A wave of homesickness brought a tear to Peepers’ eye. Dominator strode right past the staircase and into the chamber behind a sheet of falling magma. She threw him into the nearest cell, and hard steel bars instantly blocked the exit.

“I want you nearby. Stay put and shut up!” Dominator adjusted her helmet. “I’ve got some gloating to do.”

Peepers waited until the wall of heat crashed back down before he stood up. His heart ached. Hater. He’d never imagined Hater could be that devastated before. Dominator was obviously relishing Hater’s grief.

Peepers paced around the new cell, thinking. _I was trying to save Wander and Sylvia. But I didn’t think about Hater’s reaction…If I get outta here in one piece, he’s gonna kill me._

He stopped pacing. Hater was already on the ship. “Not if,” he muttered aloud. “When I get home. I’m going home!”

The one good thing about being tortured and starved was how thin he was now. Peepers sucked in a breath and pulled his eye between the bars. It was a tight fight, but he managed to drag himself out one limb at a time. Peepers rested on the floor. The wall of magma blocked the throne room from view. Everything on this side of the magma falls glowed orange. He could hear Dominator clattering around, probably preparing to rub her victory in Hater’s face.

“You’re done toying with my man!” Peepers hissed.

Rising to a crouch, Peepers ran along the cell block, keeping low, until he slipped back into the main hall. The path to the ship’s core was unguarded. Peepers stood on tiptoe and entered the passcode. Fortunately, it hadn’t changed since he and Sylvia had thrown the Frostonium into the ship’s core. Peepers let out a sigh of relief.

He slipped inside, and the door closed behind him with a soft hiss. It was so good to have tech again. Peepers ran his gloves tenderly over the keys. The electricity hummed quietly. The noise made his spirit soar. In no time, Peepers pulled up the camera feed. Everything looked quiet. Dominator must’ve summoned every available bot to welcome his heartbroken overlord.

_Payback time!_

Peepers cracked his knuckles. “Let’s have some fun!”


	19. Reunited

Hater moved woodenly down the Skullship’s tongue and into the center of the waiting entourage of bots. He refused to look back. Andy and Bean were looking after the shell-shocked troops. Greg had Wander and Sylvia with him in the control room. Hater could feel their eyes on him. The plan was simple. But the pain he knew it was causing the aliens he’d come to love made Hater’s marrow hot with shame.

Still, he wouldn’t look back. He couldn’t.

 _It’s time to end this_ , he kept telling himself. _Oh, Peepers, I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby boy._

The thought sent a painful twinge lancing through his heart. The bots formed a tight, menacing ring. Hater kept his jaw set. The two halves of the Best Buds necklace jingled as he marched, straight-backed and grim faced, toward Lord Dominator.

She was waiting for him. She lounged in her throne, fully armored and smiling so widely it made Hater feel sick. “Let’s make this quick,” she said, and sighed dramatically. “I have a mani-pedi in thirty. I want you, Lord Hater, to formally acknowledge that I, Lord Dominator, am truly the greatest in the galaxy.”

Hater held the pendants close. He took a deep breath.

The ship went dark.

_What the heck?!_

Dominator groaned exasperatedly. “Ugh, power outage! Hang on, I got it.”

She clapped her hands. Nothing happened. Hater might’ve laughed.

Hater didn’t need light to see. He crept away, toward where he knew the ship’s core was. Sylvia had drawn a map.  Leaving Dominator to shout at her bots, Hater slipped down the abandoned halls, winding his way down. Whoever was in the core was his new BFF. Hater remembered Sylvia’s instructions. He jabbed at the keypad, punching in what he hoped was the right combination.

Someone was already in there, frantically tugging out wires and punching buttons. Hater’s jaw dropped. It skittered across the floor and hit the stranger’s boot. A high-pitched shout. And Hater knew.

Ignoring the blaring alarms, Hater crashed down to the sparking computer, minus his jaw and trembling with joy, he screamed. “Peepers! Come to me, baby boy! Peepers!”

The Watchdog stampeded to him, clutching the discarded jawbone, and hurled himself into Hater’s arms. Laughing and sobbing, Peepers hugged Hater so tightly it hurt them both. Hater clumsily reattached his jawbone, one hand holding his Commander close. “You’re alive! Good Grop, you scared me! Don’t you ever…don’t you dare…” It didn’t matter. Nothing else in the world mattered except this.

Still laughing, Peepers nuzzled him fiercely. “I missed you, Hater!” A dry sob escaped Hater, and Peepers redoubled his grip. “I knew you’d pull through. I’m so proud of you, Hater!”

_He’s alive. He’s alive!_

Blinded by tears, Hater spun in a circle, covering Peepers in kisses. “Peepers, you’re alive! Thank Grop! Peepers. My Peepers!”

Peepers’ tears soaked the front of Hater’s cloak. “I’m s-so sorry. I w-was trying to save the others,” he sobbed. “I d-didn’t m-mean to make you worry! Hater, I’m so, so s-sorry!”

Hater hugged him tighter, rocking the little body. “Forget it. You’re alive, that’s all I care about! My sweet, brave Peepers. I’ve gotcha, buddy, don’t worry. Hatey's here. I’m right here, baby boy.”

Peepers sniffled and nuzzled Hater’s cheek. _Grop, I’ve missed that!_ Hater cuddled him back. _This is solid,_ he told himself. _This is real. I’m holding him. He’s alive!_ He had to swallow. “Don’t get sappy on me now. We still need to get home in one piece.”

The door behind them opened. Dominator burst in, armor glowing eerily in the dim light. “Give it up, losers,” she hissed. “You spineless little lapdog, you’re not going anywhere!”

Hater swung his arm up defensively, but Peepers had already clambered up to his shoulders. The Watchdog wrapped his arms around Hater’s collarbone. His welcome weight made Hater’s stomach flutter. “Let’s hit it, Hater!”

Hater flew at her, roaring defiantly, Peepers on his back and sparks flying from his fists. Dominator aimed a blast of magma at them and it missed spectacularly. Hater spun in a midair corkscrew, baring his teeth.

Peepers hung on tight, shouting above the noise. “Hater, I have a plan!”

Hater ducked another wave of molten death. “Man, I’ve missed hearing that! Whatcha got, baby boy?”

Peepers pointed to the main control panel on the smoking computer. “Hit the mainframe. It’ll short out the whole ship! Let’s hope your aim’s better than hers!”

Hater tickled the Watchdog’s foot gently. “I’m a great shot, and you know it!”

“Of course I do. You never let me forget,” Peepers purred, and kissed his cheek.

Hater swerved around another blast, taking aim at the sparking keyboard.  Down below, Dominator was screeching, unable to hit them. Hater clapped a hand over Peepers’ eye to protect him, and fired. The room lit up with a painful intensity that would’ve blinded most. But Hater was accustomed to flare-ups like this. Dominator wasn’t. He could see her, both hands scratching wildly at her face.

Hater snorted. “What’s the matter, Dominator? Too bright?”

“I’ll destroy you two!” Dominator screamed.

This was too easy. Hater swooped through the open door as walls began to crumble. His swagger was dissolving. Left turn. Right. Err…

Dead end.

Hater landed lightly on the shaking floor, trying to think.

Peepers squeezed his shoulders. “Hater?”

Hater shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do this! I didn’t think this through! Peepers, what do I do?!”

“How much incentive do you need?” Peepers teased him.

Before Hater could stop him, Peepers took his skull in both hands. Hater could see tears and pride shining in that eye. Peepers kissed him.

The world dissolved as Hater sank into blissful oblivion. The blaring alarms and flying sparks and Dominator’s enraged shrieks all faded into a meaningless cacophony. Hater closed his eyes and held Peepers. Finally, the painful, aching absence of his boyfriend eased. Peepers was right here. And he was alive. And they were together again. His heart was whole again.


	20. Home Again

Peepers finally opened his eye. Twined around Hater, his heart thrumming with joy, it took a second to realize he wasn’t on Dominator’s ship anymore. He was home.

“I knew you could do it,” Peepers breathed, rubbing Hater’s cheek.

Hater nuzzled him, and Peepers giggled.

Shouts of surprise and relief welcomed them back. Every Watchdog in the room threw themselves on Hater and Peepers, holding them and shouting over each other. Andy led the charge, with Bean and Greg in hot pursuit. Peepers felt the thud of tiny bodies and held Hater tighter than ever. The joyful shouts came from all sides. Peepers blinked back tears. “Commander! You’re back! We’ve missed you, sir! Welcome back, Commander!”

Dozens of pats rained down on his back. Delighted shouts and tearful laughs deafened him. Peepers couldn’t stop smiling.

“Give us some space,” Hater growled. He made a few half-hearted swipes at the clinging troops. “Go on, shoo! You can hug Peepers later.”

Very reluctantly, the Watchdogs backed off. Peepers saw the smiles and tears on every retina. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told them.

_Never again._

As his soldiers dispersed, Peepers heard two voices he missed almost as much as Hater’s.

“Peepers!”

“You little…Wander, he’s alive!”

Wander was on them in a blur of orange. Peepers seized him, and they hugged fiercely. His fur created static that made Hater’s cloak crackle. Hater stiffened for a fraction of a second, then pulled Wander into a one-armed hug.

“That was ah-mazing!” Wander gushed. “You had us scared to death!”

A long, scaly tail ruffled the Watchdog’s helmet. “Don’t make it a habit, Peepers,” Sylvia said. Her voice was rough, but her eyes were wet.

“You’re welcome for saving your lives,” Peepers teased her. Sylvia sniffled as she headbutted him. Peepers returned the headbutt with a watery chuckle.

Hater squeezed him. “That’s my boy.”

“Look!” Sylvia shouted. She pointed at something, and everyone turned to see. Peepers could see the hulk of Dominator’s ship through the windshield. Sparks were flying. The lights flashed in offensively bright colors, first red, then blue. Peepers knew he’d done a number on the system. Even from this distance, you could hear the horrible, blaring alarms. The whole Skullship seemed to view the scene with grim satisfaction. Hugging each other, Peepers and Hater silently watched Dominator’s ship rocket away. Blasting alarms followed her out of sight. Peepers shivered, and Hater kissed him.

Automatically, Peepers snuggled down in his warm arms, burying his retina in the soft, familiar cloak.

“It’s over,” Wander said.

“Good riddance,” Hater growled. He cuffed his boyfriend lightly. “Welcome home, Commander.”

 _I’m home._ In spite of everything, he was home. The truth eased the ache of the burns, the emotional torrent, everything he’d gone through. It was all worth it.

“Grop, it’s good to be back,” Peepers sighed.

A ripple of laughter ran through the troops. Sylvia gently rolled her eyes. Wander wiped a tear from his cheek.

Hater wrapped an arm around Peepers and stood up “OK, enough. Hatey and Peeps time. All of you, outta the way, I’m taking my man to bed,” he said, but he was smiling. “Move!”

Peepers snorted with laughter. The Watchdogs scrambled out of the way.

“I’ll keep an eye on things out here,” Sylvia said. “Make sure these guys get settled.”

“In other words, you’re gonna make sure they leave us alone,” Peepers muttered.

“Thanks,” Hater grunted.

Sylvia winked.

“Later, Hater! Bye, Peepers!” Wander chirruped. As they rounded the corner, Wander’s last words echoed down the hall. “Homecoming party!”

Hater just shook his head. Peepers laughed. The familiar walk to their bedroom soothed the last of Peepers’ homesickness. Everything was wonderfully normal.

“I missed you so much,” Peepers whispered. “I love you.”

Hater pushed his cheek to Peepers’ shoulder. “Love you more, baby boy.”

Their room was still a mess. Piles of socks and dirty cloaks. Their bed wasn’t made. The comforter was still rumpled.

_Just like I left it._

Hater wrapped Peepers up in the familiar pink blanket. Peepers held tight to Hater’s hand, holding it tighter than he ever had. Tears still stung his eye, but the relief, the joy of being home, banished the sadness.

Hater curled up on the bed, pulling Peepers into a wonderfully soft hug. “I missed you,” Hater said quietly. “Oh, Peepers, I love you. I love you so much.”

Peepers buried his retina in Hater’s shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of the skeleton he loved. “Hater,” he mumbled. “About…about saving the others, I didn’t mean to…”

He had to break off because Hater kissed him. Peepers felt the salty tears dripping down Hater’s cheeks. “Peepers, you saved their lives. Baby boy, that’s what I love about you,” Hater breathed. “You’re alive. I couldn’t care less! Oh, Peepers, it doesn’t matter. You’re back home. And I’m never letting you go again.”

Peepers smiled and kissed his boyfriend. “I love you, Hatey.”

Hater nuzzled Peepers, and held the Watchdog close to his chest. “Love you, too, baby boy. Hold still. Got a surprise for ya.” Hater pulled something out from under his cloak and draped it around Peepers’ neck. The necklace. His half of their heart glinted. Peepers held it tight. “Best buds,” Hater said.

“Best buds,” Peepers agreed, nuzzling Hater’s neck.

“Tim!” Hater called. “Look who’s home!”

The spider must’ve been hiding in the pillows. Peepers heard the sheets rustle. Tim flew at Peepers, screeching joyfully. Peepers opened his arms, and Tim scrambled over his back, purring. Hater laughed as Tim slathered them both in drooly acid licks.

“Eugh, thanks, Tim.” Peepers shook spit off his helmet. Tim panted, leaving sizzling holes in the covers. Peepers scratched Tim under the chin. “I missed you, too, Tim,” he said, chuckling.

The rough fur felt wonderfully familiar. Tim cuddled against Peepers, a growl of delight rising from his teeth. Peepers smiled through his tears and hugged Hater and their spider. “I really, really missed you guys,” he sniffled.

“Peeps, I missed you more than I can say,” Hater said, and kissed Peepers all over again. “Love you, baby boy. I love you so much.”

They spent the rest of the night curled up together, cuddling and just enjoying each other’s company. Peepers was so happy. He couldn’t stop smiling.

Hater refused to let him sleep in rags. “Let’s get you cleaned up, you’re a mess,” he said.

Hater filled the tub with warm water. Peepers pressed close to his side, enjoying Hater’s nearness after so long apart. Tim purred, scuttling over the bathroom tile.

Peepers sank gratefully into a warm bubble bath. Hater scrubbed the dirt and dried blood from him, talking to Peepers in a gentle voice. “Grop, you’re a mess. How you doing? Overwhelmed? Should I get Marty? Some off these cuts look nasty. Grop!”

Something popped. Peepers hissed in pain. The burns across his chest had finally spilt. The water around him went red.

Hater’s jaw was set. “Come to me, buddy! What’ve I done? Hang on, Peepers.”

Wrapping Peepers in a towel, Hater ran for the infirmary. The room was deserted. For a second, Peepers wondered if anyone was there.Hater whistled. “Marty!”

The head nurse poked his eye out of the office. “Lord Hater? Commander, welcome back! What can I…”

Marty took one look at the crimson skin and stopped talking. Peepers saw his retina whiten. _If he’s phased, you know it ain’t good._

“Don’t just stand there! Do something!” Hater snapped. “Get Wander!”

“I didn’t come all this way to die of infection!” Peepers snarled. He doubled up as his chest seared. “Gah-ha! That stings!”

“Marty!” Hater bellowed.

Their anger seemed to jerk Marty awake. He started pulling tools out of drawers and rolling up his sleeves. “OK, let’s see,” Marty said. “Put him here, sir, I need to see what I’m dealing with. I’m calling for backup, this is bad…”

Hater carefully laid Peepers on the indicated table. The cold metal made Peepers wince. Marty had his back to them. Peepers heard him shouting for Wander on the intercom. Suddenly, Marty was rummaging through cabinets. He clattered and scrambled all over the place, looking for who knew what.

Hater’s eyes had narrowed. Peepers felt his tension. Hospital settings were not Hater’s strong suit. “Don’t hurt him,” Hater spat at Marty’s back.

 _Worrywart._ Peepers gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

Hater looked at him. His green eyes bulged with panic and guilt. “I didn’t mean…Peepers, hang in there!”

Peepers tried to smile, but grimaced. The pain was too intense. All he could do was whimper.

Hater knelt by Peepers, holding his hand. “I’m right here,” he kept saying. “Hatey’s here. Hurry it up, Marty!”

“Commander, I need to put you under. This’ll pinch, but only for a second.” Marty’s voice seemed miles away.

Peepers winced as the needle pricked his shoulder. It felt like a bee sting. Or a knife wound.

Hater kissed him. “Shh, it’s OK, Peepers. It’s OK.”

Peepers fought to keep his eye open. The ceiling stretched higher and higher, until it was miles above him. Everything was spinning. He felt sick, but tired. So, so tired.

 _I can’t sleep now! Hater’s panicking, I need to stay awake!_ Peepers tried to sit up. He couldn’t move. Someone was holding him down. Peepers fought to see through the haze of pain. _Why is everything so blurry?_

“What happened?” Someone else was here now.

 _Wander?_ Peepers blinked in confusion.

“I don’t know!” Hater wailed from a long way off. “I might’ve punctured a burn! One second I’m giving him a bath, and he’s fine, the next...phish! Blood all over the place!”

“Don’t be stupid,” a third voice broke in. “He’s been swollen and infected for almost a week. It was just a matter of time before all this gunk burst open.”

_Sylvia? When did she get here?_

Peepers tried raising his eye. Why was he so tired?

“I’m gonna need you to hang onto him, Lord Hater,” Marty ordered. “I don’t want anything to happen. This is going to be a delicate operation. Don’t let him get up, and whatever you do, hold him tight!”

The light was blinding. He heard the snap of rubber gloves. Three pairs. Wander, Sylvia, and Marty. Hater’s arms were suddenly on his shoulders. Peepers fought harder than ever against the blackness threatening to swamp him.

“Don’t leave,” Peepers whispered. It was a struggle to form words. “Don’t…”

“Never again,” Hater assured. “Get some sleep, baby boy. I’ve gotcha. I promise.”

His arms felt heavy. Were they always this heavy? They seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. His eyelids were like sandbags. It was impossible to stay awake. An orange blob was hovering over Hater’s shoulder. Peepers could feel himself losing consciousness.

_Who’s holding me? Is it Hater? Was his face that white a second ago? And what’s with the blue pony? No. Pony? Sylvia. Yeah, yeah. That’s Sylvia._

“It’s OK, Peepers, I’m right here,” Hater’s voice was so soft. “Don’t worry, Peepers. Get some sleep. It’s OK. I’m here. I’ll always be right here. I’m never letting you go again. Promise.”

Peepers finally succumbed to the medicine’s pull, closing his eyelids as Hater cradled him close. _I'm never leaving again. Never again. I'm home now. I'm home._


	21. Operation

Peepers let out a tiny sigh as the sedative took effect. Hater kissed him. “Sweet dreams, Peepers,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, baby boy. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Helpless, Hater hunkered down at the top of the table and held Peepers. He hummed the first tune that popped into his head. _Figures,_ he thought. _Wander’s lovey-dovey song._

Hater’s jaw was set. _Doesn’t matter._  He held Peepers’ tiny hand tightly. “Well?” he asked Marty. “How’s he looking?”

The head nurse came around the table to examine the still form. Peepers’ breathing was shallow. Wander and Sylvia watched from the side, their eyes huge.

“I need to call backup,” Marty said.

Hater looked down at Peepers, sleeping peacefully in his arms. _I’m not gonna lose him. Not again!_

“Do something,” he hissed. “Don’t just sit there, Marty! Call for backup, do something!”

Marty lunged for the intercom and started dialing. Wander and Sylvia exchanged a glance. Hater held Peepers closer.

“They’re on the way,” Marty said. “I’ve got everyone coming.”

“Finally,” Hater grunted.

A thunder of approaching footsteps announced the arrival of reinforcements. Craig, Tom, and Keith, the emergency crew. Hater felt his chest swell with pride. The best of the best.

Tom was already wearing his surgical gloves. He started taking measurements and booting up equipment. Keith pressed an icy stethoscope to Peepers’ inflamed chest. Craig and Marty went over the details in low, hushed voices. Hater couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could guess. Nothing good, that was for sure.

Wander tried to move in, but Sylvia pulled him back. She wrapped him up in a hug and whispered in his ear.

Hater kissed Peepers again.

It got harder to breathe as the backup doctors slipped into the operating room. There just wasn’t enough space. The doctors worked fast in the tight quarters. They took turns kneeling over Peepers with glinting metal tools.

Each burn had to be spilt open to allow the diseased fluids to flow. The skin across Peepers’ chest had gone past red and inflamed. It was scorched black and slick with oozing blood and bubbling pus.

“Holy…this looks way worse than before,” Sylvia grunted.

Wander stifled a sob behind his hands. Hater tried to swallow his panic.

Hater pushed his forehead to Peepers’ shoulder, seeking reassurance. “It’s all right,” he murmured. His voice cracked. “I’ve gotcha, baby boy. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you.”

The stench of infection was almost overpowering. Foul-smelling pus dribbled from the infected skin. Everyone gagged and recoiled, coughing and spluttering. Only Hater stayed where he was, kneeling at Peepers’ side and humming gently.

“You should leave,” Tom muttered.

For a second, Hater thought he was talking to him, and he opened his mouth, about to remind Tom who was in charge. But he realized Tom wasn’t talking to him.

“Are you sure?” Sylvia asked.

“We’re fine,” Keith’s voice answered curtly.

“This isn’t a book club,” Craig agreed. “We need to get to work.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hater snarled.

“Of course not,” Tom agreed. “But, sir, I need the cotton balls. You’re blocking the counter.”

_Oh._

Hater flushed. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Whatever.”

He shifted over, making room. But he still held his boyfriend. _I’m never letting him go. Never again._

As Tom edged past Hater, Sylvia pulled off her gloves. The elastic snapped loudly. She dodged around Craig and tossed them into the garbage.

Wander gaped. “What are you doing?”

“We can’t help here,” she said gently. “We’re not doctors, buddy. Let these guys do what they do best.”

“But…” Wander’s mouth opened and closed. “But…”

 _He looks like a fish,_ Hater thought. A flicker of amusement brought a smile to his bony lips.

“Wander, you can go,” Keith said.

“We’ve got this,” Marty said impatiently.

“Come on,” Sylvia murmured. She nudged Wander gently with her snout. “It’s too crowded in here. They need to work. Come on, Wander.”

She held the door open. Keith nodded approvingly. Wander sighed heavily and got to his feet. Instead of walking to the door, he tugged at Hater’s cloak.

Hater ignored him. Tom started dabbing at the infected flesh with medicated cotton balls. The skin hissed, and Hater shuddered.

Keith inserted an IV needle into Peepers’ arm. Still unconscious, Peepers squeaked. “Careful!” Hater growled.

“Sorry, sorry,” Keith said.

He turned his back on them and started hitting buttons. Hater growled softly, and nuzzled Peepers, trying to soothe him. Peepers quieted.

“He’s just pulling up the vitals,” Marty said in an undertone.

“If he makes Peepers jump like that again, I’ll knock him out,” Hater spat.

Marty chuckled. Tom rolled his eye. Keith bit back a snort. Hater tried to keep his face hard, but he was too worried.

“Come on, Hatey,” Wander murmured.

Craig snorted irritably. Keith pointed to the open door. Marty and Tom didn’t react. They were too busy draining the burns and applying medicine.

Wander gave Hater’s cloak another tug. Stubborn to the last degree, Hater crouched even closer to Peepers. _Go away!_

“Leave it, buddy.” Sylvia broke them apart. She took Wander’s arm off Hater’s cloak, and pushed him gently out the door. As she passed, she rested her tail briefly on Hater’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through,” she said.

Hater wanted to ask if she really believed that. At the same time, he didn’t want to know. Empty encouragement was better than nothing at this point.

He nodded to her. She nodded back.

As they turned away, Hater blurted out, “Thanks. For being with him.”

“No problem,” Sylvia said.

She looked at Peepers, and her face filled with worry.

 _She’s as scared as I am_ , Hater realized.

“We were happy to be there for him,” Wander said in a thick voice. “Y’know, he really loves you. You’re a lucky guy, Hater.”

Hater held tight to the limp body. Peepers gave a tiny sigh. Hater knew the sound. It meant more than just about anything. He smiled. Peepers sighed like that in his sleep. When he was utterly content.

Blinking hard, Hater gave Peepers a gentle kiss. The medical team cooed behind their gloves. Hater ignored the flush creeping over his face. _They know I care. So what? I’m not hurting anybody. Love you, Peepers._

Without looking up, he spoke to Sylvia. “I know,” Hater whispered. “He’s the greatest in the galaxy.”

“We’ll keep you in the loop,” Marty called as the door closed.

Hater crouched closer to Peepers as the team went to work.  _It’s gonna be a long night._


	22. The Wait

An eerie hush had settled over the Skullship. It seemed like everyone was waiting on tenterhooks for the outcome. Nobody came near the infirmary. They retreated to their barracks and huddled together in silence, hoping for the best, but braced for the worst.

Sylvia pulled Wander away. “Waiting outside the door like a couple of scavengers won’t make Peepers better,” she pointed out. “Come on, Wander. Give them some space. Those Watchdogs know what they’re doing.”

Ever practical, Sylvia turned the hallway into an impromptu sleeping space. Spreading out a roll of blankets and pillows, she crafted a makeshift nest. Wander slept off and on. Sylvia didn’t rest. She strode back and forth, up and down, never speaking, never stopping. Time slowed to a crawl. Every minute lasted an eternity. It was painful. But what could you do? There was nothing left to do but sit back and wait.

Wander woke up for the fifth time. He couldn’t steele back down, so he tried to stay busy. He really did. He tried reading, suduko, crosswords. But it was no use. Nothing silenced the swirl of panic churning in his belly. After a long while, he gave in and went back to sleep.

Sylvia continued to pace restlessly up and down the hallway, back and forth outside the infirmary. Up and down, up and down she stomped. There wasn’t anything more to do. It was all up to Peepers now.  _Hater won’t leave him,_ she thought. _I haven’t seen him that happy. Not ever. Those two really, really love each other. He’ll pull through. He’s gotta. Stop worrying, he’ll be fine. He’s bleeding. Should it take this long? Hater’s with him. Oh, what do I do?_

It felt good to see that much love in a relationship. Hater’s dedication to Peepers was undeniable. They obviously adored each other. What more could you ask for?

Midnight came and went. At half-past three in the morning, Captain Tim joined their silent vigil. Wander heard the clatter of claws. Sylvia glanced up. The Arachnomorph looked from one to the other, then to the closed door. He whined pitifully.

"Here, boy," Wander called. He patted the blanket next to him.

Tim didn't seem to like the idea. He puffed himself up and hissed. Sylvia almost tripped over him as the spider joined her silent patrol. Up and down the hall they paced, in perfect step. The addition was a welcome one. It seemed to ease some of the crushing worry. There was someone new to share the burden.

Wander stared at the door. All this time, and he hadn’t moved. Tim had abandoned the doorway. He rested in the crook of Wander's knee, letting out an occasional whimper. Wander just sat there, tapping his fingers. His eyes glittered with indecision. Sylvia stopped pacing and curled up on the mound of pillows. Wander didn't relax. He sat stiff and tall.

“Hey,” Sylvia said. “Peepers is gonna be fine. Don’t worry. It’s 7 a.m.. If anything’d happened, we’d know by now. Get some more sleep, pal. You look awful. I’m sure he’s fine, Wander.”

“Yeah,” Wander said in an unconvincing voice. “Listen, Syl, I gotta…I gotta make a quick phone call. I’ll…I’ll be right back.”

He slipped off without another word. She watched him go before curling back up. Tim hissed. It sounded almost like a sigh.

Wander was gone for half an hour. Sylvia wasn’t worried. With any luck, he’d have found something to do. Seven passed into eight o’clock without a sign of Wander. Sylvia actually fell asleep on the makeshift bed with Tim snoring at her elbow.

An anguished wail shattered the sleepy silence. A mother’s voice raised in distress. Sylvia sat bolt upright. Tim recognized the voices. He chirruped a friendly greeting.

Two Watchdogs in civilian clothes were stampeding down the hall. Sylvia pulled Tim out of the way before they could stomp him.

White with shock, the taller of the two almost crashed into Sylvia in her rush for the infirmary door. Another Watchdog was hard on her heels. He was broad-shouldered and stocky, wearing a rumpled suit and mismatched shoes. Like his wife, he was ashen-eyed and trembling.

Sylvia didn’t recognize either of them. The wife was slightly taller than her husband, delicate as a bird poised for flight. Her husband was barrel-chested and slightly intimidating.

But something was wrong. His suit should’ve been pressed and neat. The wife was sobbing and trembling like a leaf in a storm. They’d obviously left the house in a hurry. They both looked so out-of-place next to the neatly uniformed troops.

Tim circled the couple, purring. The husband scratched him with a quivering fingers. “Hey, there, Tim,” he said in a croaky voice. He’d obviously been crying.

“You must be Sylvia,” the taller of the two said.

“Y-yeah,” Sylvia said, very slowly. “Who…”

“Sylvia,” Wander shouted. “Wait!”

Puffing and panting, Wander caught up. He knelt down, gasping, clutching a stitch in his side.

Sylvia propped him up with her tail. “Wander, what on earth…” she started to say.

“These are his parents,” Wander wheezed. “Terry, and his lovely…lovely…excuse me, I need a minute.”

He doubled up, puffing for air. Sylvia raised an eyebrow.

Terry wrapped an arm around his shaking wife. “My wife,” he said, “Elara.”

“Hello, dear,” Elara said in a trembling voice.

“Nice to meet you?” Very hesitantly, Sylvia shook hands with both Watchdogs. Peepers looked a lot like Terry, his father. Small in stature, but obviously a born leader. But the quiet strength had obviously been inherited from the mother, Elara.

“Excuse us for a second,” she said, inclining her head. “Wander, I need to have a word with you.”

She dragged Wander off the elbow. Once they were out of hearing range, Sylvia rounded on him. “You called his parents?!” Sylvia whispered fiercely.

“Of course I did,” Wander whispered back. “They had a right to know the truth.”

Sylvia clapped a hand to her snout. “Why?!”

“Because they needed to know!” Wander said, hands on hips. “What else was I supposed to do? He’s their son. They’ve been worried sick!”

“They didn’t know he was missing!”

“You’re really OK with outright lying to such devoted parents?” Wander pointed dramatically to the sobbing Elara.

“It was for the best, Wander!” Sylvia hissed. “Hater was only trying to protect them. There’s probably a damn good reason he didn’t tell his in-laws Peepers was kidnapped!”

Wander winced at the word.

“He was kidnapped!” Sylvia went on. “We were, too! Wander, I know you were trying to help, but why couldn’t you have waited?!”

“He’s their son,” Wander said in a small voice. “Syl, they needed to know.”

Sylvia shook her head. “How much did you tell them?”

Wander didn’t say anything. Sylvia groaned.

“How did you even find their phone number?” She froze, horrified. “Did you go into their room?!”

“No, of course not,” Wander said, shaking his head. “The number was taped to the fridge in the kitchen.”

Sylvia paused to take a few steadying breaths. “Wander,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I know you only wanted to help. But why, why would you call his parents? Look at them, look how devastated they are. The last thing we need right now are hysterical parents! Wander, there’s a good chance he didn’t make it through the night. Peepers might be…”

She broke off to swallow. “We don’t know what’s happening. We should’ve waited for a concrete answer before we pushed the panic button and called his flarping parents!”

“Wander? Sylvia?” someone called.

They froze at the sound of the voice. It was Marty. They ran back to the door.

He’d slipped out of the operating room. He was covered in splotches of indescribable color. He looked exhausted.

“How is he?” Wander and Sylvia demanded.

“My son!” Elara wailed.

“Get out of the way!” Terry shouted. “Let me through!”

Marty blinked in confusion at the jumble of voices. “Please, everyone, keep your voices down. He’s sleeping right now.”

“Never mind that,” Elara wailed. “My son, what about my son?!”

Marty rubbed a stained glove over his retina. “He’s very badly burned. We might be looking at permanent scarring.”

Wander gasped quietly. Sylvia’s heart plummeted. Tim whimpered.

“Whatever,” Terry snapped, waving an impatient hand. “Scars we can deal with. But what about my son? Is he gonna live?”

Marty’s expression was grim. “We’ve done all we can, sir,” he said finally. “But at the end, it’s up to Commander Peepers.”

A full thirty seconds of deafening silence settled over them all. Finally, Marty stepped aside.

“We’ve moved him into the infirmary. You can see him, but please try to be quiet. He needs as much sleep as he can get.”

The little group moved into the infirmary. Wander propped the door open, allowing Terry and Elara in first. They muttered furiously to each other, their voices tight with worry.

“I knew it. I just knew something was wrong!” Elara was wringing her hands. “Why didn’t anyone say anything?!”

Wander stopped in the doorway. “I shouldn’t have called them.”

“No, buddy, your heart’s in the right place,” Sylvia sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

They hugged each other very tightly.

“I’m so scared,” Wander whispered.

“I know…”

Sylvia broke off as a low moan came from the infirmary. Terry staggered out, clutching his wife. Elara stifled a wail behind her hands. Terry held her until his knuckles turned white. Wander could see him shaking.

“My son,” Elara whispered. “Our baby!”

She dissolved into sobs. Terry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently rocked her. The door hissed closed behind them.

“Not this,” Elara kept sobbing. “Not my boy. Not this! Anything but this!”

Terry was crying, too, but quietly. He gestured to the infirmary, inviting them in.

Wander and Sylvia exchanged a long look.

“Let’s see,” Wander said, very softly.

Sylvia nudged the door open.

An I.V. bag of clear liquid dripped steadily between beeps from the heart monitor. Peepers wasn’t moving. Spread-eagled on his back, barely twitching. The skin across his chest was an angry red. The burns were stitched up with thick medical thread. It looked really itchy. Hater was asleep in a chair set up next to the bed. They were still holding hands. Tim scampered over Wander’s foot and burrowed under the hospital bed. Neither one of the boys stirred. Peepers looked so peaceful.

Sylvia smiled through the wetness threatening to trickle from her eyes. “He’s gonna be just fine,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” Wander agreed with a sniffle. “They both are. Let them sleep.”

They closed the door very quietly. The hydraulics had barely hissed shut when Elara burst into sobs.

They were on the bed Sylvia had made. Wander sat down on one side of them. Sylvia took the other side.

“It’s OK, honey, it’s OK,” Terry breathed.

Elara whirled on her husband. “OK?! You call that OK?!” She pointed a finger at the closed door. “Hater lied to us, our boy’s been missing for ten days! And nobody bothered to say anything. We’re his parents, for heaven’s sake!”

Terry tried to say something, but Elara drowned him out. “Look at his chest, Terry,” she shrieked. “He’s disfigured! My son, my baby, he’s a mess!” Her voice rose to an anguished squawk. “Terry, that’s our boy! He’s in a hospital bed! He’s bleeding! That’s about as far from OK as possible!”

“At least he’s alive,” Terry said gently.

“But look at him…” Elara whimpered, gesturing to the door.

Sylvia’s patience wore out. “Your son risked his neck to save ours. A lesser alien would’ve died under the kind of torture he’s been through!” Sylvia snapped. “Look at what he’s done, not what he looks like now.”

“If you really want something to stare at, Elara, look at that,” Wander said. He pointed to the door. “Hater hasn’t left his side since Peepers got home. That’s love, right there. He adores your son. Isn’t that enough?”

Elara sobbed brokenly. She turned away from the door, burying her retina in Terry’s chest. Wander felt a lump rise in his throat. Terry cradled his wife, shushing her while he shook with barely-restrained sobs.

“My baby…” Elara kept whispering. “My son…Oh, Terry, what are we going to do?”

“Elara, shh, shh, shh,” Terry hushed her. “Honey, it’s all right. He’s going to be fine. He’s alive. And Hater didn’t tell us for a reason. Lara, don’t blame him. He’ll have had a reason for not telling us. I don’t care what my son looks like. Lara, he’s alive. My son, my boy, he’s alive. That’s what counts.”

He wiped the tears streaming from Elara’s eye and whispered soothingly to her. The tenderness between them was almost tangible. You could tell these two were meant to be together. That they had been made for each other.

Elara turned to Wander and Sylvia. “Thank you both. I know you helped, I don’t know how, at least not yet, but I know you helped save my son’s life. Thank you.”

Wander opened his mouth, but Sylvia spoke for them both. “We can tell you everything later.”


	23. Voices in the Hallway

He was lying on something wonderfully soft. Someone was singing nearby, a soft, gentle song Peepers knew better than his own heartbeat. A huge hand was gently rubbing his closed lid. Peepers murmured contentedly. There was no pain in his chest. No worrying thoughts clouded his mind. For the first time in ten days, Peepers felt completely at peace. Nearby, someone was sill singing, soft and sweet. It was so quiet here. So astonishingly, amazingly quiet. And if he knew who this was, cradling him and crooning, there was nothing to be afraid of.

He could hear voices behind the closed door. Familiar voices. Wander, Sylvia…and...and...

“Can’t we go in to see him? It’s been all night!”

_Ma?_

“Easy, Elara.”

_Pop?_

No doubt about it. Those voices were unmistakable. His parents were just outside the room, muttering with Wander and Sylvia. Peepers tried to roll over, but felt an odd vibration when he moved his leg. Something with eight legs, something with prickly, coarse fur, was curled up beside him on the bed. Peepers recognized the growling purr.

 _Tim,_ Peepers thought to himself. _Grop, I’ve missed him._

Hater kept humming, still caressing Peepers’ eyelid. Peepers relaxed, enjoying the comforting pressure of Hater’s enormous hand. He sighed contentedly.

Finally, finally Peepers opened his eye.

The lights were dimmed. He was lying flat on his back in the infirmary. A soft blanket was pulled up to his throat. Tim purred cheerfully. He looked over to his left, and there was Hater, caressing his eyelid and humming gently.

“Peepers?” Hater asked hopefully. Tears dripped down his face, but his voice remained steady. “Hey, Peepers. How ya feelin’?”

Peepers held Hater’s huge hand and smiled. “Best I’ve felt in ten days,” Peepers said. His voice cracked. “I missed you, Hater.”

A croaky noise, half a laugh and half a sob, broke through Hater’s chest. “Peepers!”

He plastered him in kisses, nuzzles, and gentle whispers. Smiling through his own tears, Peepers nuzzled Hater under the jaw, overwhelmed by his own joy. The sweet, sweet relief of being back home with his best friend and the love of his life. “So quick to give up hope,” Peepers said in a croaky voice.

“Peepers, my baby boy, you’re alive!” Hater sobbed. “For Grop’s sake, you’re alive!”

Peepers laughed and peppered Hater’s face with delighted kisses. The warmth bubbling in his belly ran from his retina to the tips of his toes.

Tim screeched in delight. He ran over the blankets, slobbering until drops of spit left sizzling holes in the blanket. Hater and Peepers broke apart to give Tim a few loving pats.

Hater rested his forehead against Peepers’ eyelid and chuckled. “You’re alive,” he kept whispering. “You’re alive! I love you, baby boy! My baby boy, I love you so, so much. Your parents are gonna kill me. They’ve been pestering me for hours, they don’t trust me. I have no idea…”

He was babbling. Peepers ran a finger over Hater’s jawbone, silently reassuring himself that he was awake. That he wasn’t dreaming. Peepers had to convince himself that he was really safe at home in Hater’s arms. “Shh, shh, shh,” Peepers murmured. “Grop, I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

The voices outside the infirmary were growing louder, more agitated. Peepers heard several pairs of shuffling footsteps and sensed movement behind the closed door.

“Shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

_Typical Ma. No mistaking that nagging voice._

“Lara,” someone shushed, “keep your voice down! He's probably still asleep. We'll know what happened soon enough. Don't knock on the door again, let them rest. You've been on edge all night. Hater will get us the moment anything changes. Stop fussing."

Peepers rolled his eye. He could just picture his father soothing his agitated wife.  _Good old Pop._

“But what if he never wakes up?” Elara fretted. "Oh, what if he never wakes up?”

“That’s just silly,” Wander said. “Peepers won’t sleep forever. He can’t even sleep in.”

Hater snorted in amusement. “Your mom hates me. All night, she's been opening that door. I think she expects me to eat you when she's not looking."

Peepers swallowed back a flicker of annoyance. _They’ve been pestering him all night!_

“I’ve got an idea,” Peepers muttered. “Just play along!”

“You’re an angry little smart guy, Peepers,” Hater chuckled and kissed him. “You know that?”

Peepers nuzzled his cheek. “And don't you forget it.”

Terry’s voice interrupted them. “Lara, take it easy. Look, we’ll take a peek inside, see how he’s doing. Don’t heckle Wander and Sylvia. If they’ve been telling us the truth about what happened, then our boy’s lucky to be alive. Let’s take a quick peek, Lara.”

The doorknob rattled. His parents were coming in.

Hater lifted the covers, and Peepers hastily flopped back down, pretending to be asleep. Tim circled the pillow three times and resumed his original position at Peepers’ side. Hater winked at him.

Peepers nodded and closed his eye. “Here we go.”


	24. Surprise

“I’ve waited long enough,” Elara shrieked. “That’s my son. Let me through, that’s my son!”

Hater pressed a gentle kiss to Peepers’ eyelid. The Watchdog collapsed in a limp bundle, looking perfectly unconscious. He was so still, lying in an unmoving heap. Hater almost believed Peepers was really out cold. His belly churned, but not with fear or anxiety. Affectionate butterflies had replaced the unyielding fear of the past ten days.  _He’s home,_ Hater thought. _Peepers, you’re back!_ Lightheaded with relief, Hater almost forgot to open the door.

Elara was first over the doorstep. Terry hurtled after her. Wander and Sylvia kept well back.

 _Smart move,_ Hater thought to himself. Then he noticed the glint in her eye.

 _Oh, boy._ Hater froze. _She looks pissed._

He took a deep breath. Elara ran at him, her eye blazing. Hater flinched. She threw her arms up and Hater winced.

“Elara,” Terry shouted, “no!”

But she didn’t lash out. She didn’t hit him. Instead, Elara pulled him into a tight hug and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much!”

“Hater!” Terry clapped him on the back. It was hard to tell if it was in relief because Elara hadn’t throttled him, or congratulations at being spared.

“You saved my son,” Terry said in a thick voice. “Hater, thank you, thank you so much.”

“I didn’t do anything, really,” Hater mumbled as Elara soaked the front of his cloak in her tears. “Wander and Sylvia, they were the ones who…”

Terry disentangled Elara from Hater’s robe and rocked her. But Elara wasn’t crying tears of joy anymore. She had seen Peepers.

She whimpered, and Terry kissed her softly. “Don’t wake him,” Terry told her gently. “Let him sleep.”

Hater glanced up as Wander and Sylvia slid into the room. Wander’s expression softened when he saw Peepers, apparently out cold. “He looks a lot better than he did last night,” Wander observed.

“Yeah, at least _he_ got some sleep,” Sylvia muttered, and she leaned against the wall.

Hater noticed the bags under her eyes. He blinked in surprise. Wander’s eyes were red-rimmed. Elara was red-eyed from crying, and Terry had shadow under his eye. They’d obviously had a sleepless night.

“Lord Hater?” Marty’s voice called. “If it’s all right with you, I need to take a look, see how well Commander Peepers made it through the night.”

Hater nodded, and the nurse slipped into the room. He had on a fresh pair of gloves, and a new clipboard under one arm. Unlike the aliens around him, Marty looked well-rested.

“Take a look,” Hater said.

Marty examined every screen with a critical eye. He looked over every number, from blood pressure to heartbeat. Wander joined Sylvia against the wall. Almost like he was giving the family space.

Hater caught his eye. “Thanks,” he mouthed silently.

Wander winked. Sylvia flicked her tail in acknowledgement.

Elara was following Marty’s progress anxiously. “How are his vitals?”

“He’s _fine_ , Elara,” Terry said. “Look, honey. He’s breathing, isn’t he?”

Elara ignored him. She hovered around anxiously as Marty pressed a stethoscope to Peepers’ chest. Hater winced. He could almost feel the sting of the cold metal as it hit his boyfriend’s skin. Peepers twitched. For a second, Hater thought he’d given the game up. But nobody else seemed to notice.

“Poor thing, it’s been a nightmare!” Elara said.

She glanced around the room. At Sylvia’s smoke-stained mane. Wander’s frizzled fur.

Hater tried to ignore the flush creeping over his face. He wouldn’t show signs of physical damage. All this had been emotional torment. It felt like he’d aged a thousand years since Peepers had gone missing.

“For all of you,” Elara murmured, and she pressed a consoling hand to Hater’s shoulder.

Hater braced himself. “Terry,” he began, “Elara, please, let me explain…”

“You went looking for him,” Elara said. Her tone was not encouraging.

Hater bristled. “Of course!”

_What does she think, I’d leave Peepers to die out in space?!_

“He tore the galaxy upside down, ma’am,” Marty said, very quietly. “He hasn’t slept properly since Commander Peepers went missing. I haven’t seen him eat. I don’t think he’s done a thing for himself these past few days.”

Still curled up against Peepers’ side, Tim purred approvingly. Elara buries her eye in her hands.

“It’s OK, honey, it’s OK,” Terry murmured. He kissed Elara and gave Hater a brief, one-armed hug. “Don’t take it personally,” Terry muttered in an undertone. “Lara’s just concerned. I don’t want to hear an explanation,” Terry said.

Hater closed his mouth. He’d been about to say something, anything really, but the words died in his throat as his father-in-law held up a hand. Terry pulled him into a hug. “I know why you didn’t tell us, and I respect that decision,” Terry went on. “My son’s alive. That’s all that matters. I’m an accountant. I know tired. Hater, you’re beyond exhausted. Peepers went missing, and you’ve obviously run yourself and your crew ragged looking for him. An idiot could see how much you love my son.”

Hater was lost for words.

Terry hugged him even tighter. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Hater,” he said in a thick voice. "You did everything you could to find my boy, and he's back. That's the important thing."

Hater blinked in surprise, too overwhelmed to think of anything to say.

“What I care about is how happy he is,” Terry said, clapping Hater on the back. “And he’s happy with you.”

Wander sniffled. “That’s so sweet,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“It’s a bit obvious,” Sylvia conceded, “heck, it couldn’t be any more obvious that you and Peepers belong together.”

Terry stared at Peepers, and his expression clouded with loss. “He’s alive, and injured or not, I can never thank you enough for putting so much effort into finding my son. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

Hater tied to ignore the green flush creeping across his skull. The others were right. Their confidence in him, in his relationship with boyfriend, it brought a small, embarrassed smile to his lips.

It _was_ obvious how much he cared for Peepers. But did it really matter if everyone could tell how close Hater was to his boyfriend?

 _I don’t need permission to be in love. I’m Lord Hater! I take what I want, I do whatever I want!_ Hater realized he didn’t care. _I’m happy, and I don’t need to tiptoe around other aliens. They don’t like it, not my problem. We’re happy. And we’re happy because we’re together. Because we have each other. He makes me happy. And I love him._

He loved Peepers more than anything. Planetary conquest, even chasing Wander. _Nothing in this universe means more to me than my Peepers._

Hater inclined his head and kissed Peepers tenderly.

Elara and Terry squeezed each other, looking on fondly. Sylvia gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.

Peepers opened his eye. “And you thought my parents hated you,” he said. He propped himself up on one elbow. “Told you they loved you.”

Hater burst out laughing. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right?” he joked.

“Never,” Peepers said, and nuzzled him.

Thirty seconds of utter silence followed. Peepers winked at the others. Wander and Sylvia stared open-mouthed. Terry had started to cry. Elara was trembling with joy.

The silence broke as Elara screamed. Her voice drowned out the other’s shouts of delighted surprise. Hater chuckled. Tim screeched joyfully.

Elara dragged Peepers into a massive hug, sobbing. “You’re all right! Peepers! Terry, he’s alive!”

Shaking with sobs, Terry pulled both his wife and his son into his arms and held them as he cried.

Hater tried to give them a bit of space, but Terry pulled him into the hug.

“You’re a part of the family, too, sweetheart,” Elara said, and kissed his cheek.

Hater went bright green. Peepers headbutted him.

“Make room,” Wander said through his tears.

“Adopted kin coming in for a hug,” Sylvia sniffled.

Two more bodies thudded against Hater’s back as Wander and Sylvia joined the group hug. Peepers buried his eye in Hater’s shoulder, and Hater breathed in in warm, familiar scent. He smiled through his own tears and kissed his Commander again.


	25. Epilogue

The next four weeks were blissfully uneventful. Peepers’ burns healed. The scars faded more every day. Hater refused to leave the Commander’s side. It was hard for the Watchdogs to tell who was happier. Peepers blossomed under all the affection Hater rained down. And Hater was much more attentive. He picked Peepers up at every possible opportunity. It soon became a joke around the Skullship that Peepers spent more time in Hater’s arms than he did walking around.

There were no late-night meetings. No troops were scolded. Even the air seemed lighter. More laughter.

Still too sore to play tennis, Peepers took up video games. Curled up on Hater’s lap, he pretended to hit the buttons, losing on purpose.

Hater rested his chin on Peepers’ eye. The Watchdog had stopped wearing his helmet lately, making it easier to snuggle.

“You’re not even trying,” Hater teased.

Peepers nuzzled him under the jawbone. “I’m no good at this,” he replied. “Let’s play something else.”

“No way! I’m winning!”

“Please, for me?” Peepers asked with a purr in his voice.

Hater paused the game. The briefing hall was empty. Hater, crossed-legged in his chair, grinned at his boyfriend. “Anything for you, buddy.” The Watchdog beamed. The screen overhead flashed. “Incoming call?” Hater groaned.

Peepers elbowed him playfully. “Says the guy who loves to talk.”

Hater pecked him lightly on the eyelid before hitting the controller to accept the call.

“Hell-o, boys,” Elara trilled.

“Hi, Ma,” Peepers said.

“’Sup?” Hater waved his free hand, the one not hugging Peepers.

“How are you doing, honey?” Elara asked. “Are you getting enough sleep?”

Peepers shifted closer to Hater. “I told you, Ma, I’m fine.” He smiled, and Hater held him tighter. “I’m in good hands.”

“I know, I know…” Elara fretted.

Peepers heard his father’s voice. “Lara, are you pestering the boys again?”

Elara shot a look over her shoulder. “Just a second, Terry!” She turned back to the screen. “What did you eat last night? Did it have enough vitamins?”

“Elara!” Terry said warningly.

“Potato salad,” Hater chimed in. “That recipe is super rare. It’s imported and stuff. Took us forever to find.”

Peepers fought back a laugh. _It was on a scrap of paper we found at the bottom of Wander’s hat._

Elara folded her arms. “What aren’t you boys telling me?”

Peepers hesitated. _We aren’t telling you a lot of things, Ma. I have a poisonous spider as a pet. I was never in love with that girl you tried to set me up with. How much I hate family get-togethers._

Elara didn’t let him reply. “Actually, you know what? I think it’s a good idea if your father and I stop by for a quick-”

 _“No!”_ Terry, Hater, and Peepers shouted together.

“Leave them alone, honey,” Terry said. “Talk to you soon, boys.”

“Bye, Pop,” Peepers called.

Hater rolled his eyes. “Later, Terry.”

The line went dead.

Hater huffed. “Man, she’s pushy!”

Peepers chuckled softly. “Tell me about it.” He burrowed down in Hater’s lap, enjoying the warmth.

Hater turned the screen off. “Peepers?” he said, hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry we got into that fight.”

Peepers sighed exasperatedly. “You’re not still blaming yourself, are you?”

“No!” Hater shouted. Peepers eyed him skeptically. “OK, fine, maybe a little,” Hater muttered.

Peepers hushed him soothingly. He climbed up, standing on Hater’s knees to reach his face. “Hey. Look at me,” he said gently. “Look at me, sweetheart. You didn’t make Dominator chase me down. That was _her_ fault, Hater, not yours. Don’t forget, big fella, we’re gonna fight. It’s kind of our thing.” Smiling faintly, Peepers wiped away the tears on Hater’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “You’re being too hard on yourself. This. Was. Not. Your. Fault. I _chose_ to leave. You didn’t make me do anything. You didn’t make Dominator chase me down. That was an accident, honey.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Peepers said firmly. “Look at what you did, Hater. You tore this galaxy upside down. You kept right on looking for me. You never gave up.”

“Duh!” Hater snorted. “I love you. Speaking of love, Wander says you never gave up on me.”

Peepers shrugged. “I knew you’d pull through.” His eye sparkled with amusement. “And I’m always right.”

Hater snorted. “I’m serious, Peepers. How’d you know?”

“Because I know you. The Lord Hater I know never lets anything stand in his way. The Lord Hater I know always kicks butt and never takes stuff sitting down,” Peepers said, very softly. “And that’s the Lord Hater I fell in love with.”

Hater pretended to roll his eyes. “Ugh, don’t be so sappy, Peepers!” Hater kissed Peepers lightly, and murmured into his shoulder. “That’s my job.”

“You know what the best part of this whole misadventure was?” Peepers asked.

“Blowing up Dominator’s ship?”

“Well, yes, but I was talking about us. You and me.”

Hater furrowed his brow. “What about us?”

“We’re strong enough to get through anything together,” Peepers replied. “This whole thing proves that. You’re being too hard on yourself, you know that? I didn’t leave _because_ of you, I just needed a breather. That happens. Things just went crazy. And it wasn’t your fault, bonehead.”

Hater sighed heavily, covering the Commander’s hands with his own. Peepers rubbed the bony face, and was rewarded by a small smile. “I’m being an idiot,” Hater muttered.

"Yeah. But you’re my idiot,” Peepers told him, and Hater laughed. Peepers kissed him. “Attaboy.”

Hater nuzzled his neck. “You know what? You’re right, baby boy, As long as we’re together, nothing’s gonna break us apart,” Hater decided. “One little fight won’t change that, will it?” he asked, and he looked suddenly nervous.

“What?” Peepers asked. “Of course not!”

Very lightly, he rested his eyelid against Hater’s forehead. “Of course not,” he repeated, very gently.

Hater gave a watery chuckle, and, for a second, they sat quietly. “I love you,” Hater said finally.

Peepers giggled. “Took the words right outta my retina.”

“Aww! Has anybody told you how cute you are together?”

Hater caught Peepers as he leapt back in surprise. Wander’s head poked around the back of the chair. His eyes were shining.

Hater went green with rage. “Get outta here!” he roared.

He stood up threateningly, and Wander scurried off. “We’re never gonna get rid of him,” Hater commented, his eyes soft. “Is it bad that I don’t want to?”

Peepers kissed him. “No way. We’ll adjust.”

Hater laughed, wrapping Peepers up in a tight hug and nuzzling his boyfriend. “Kind of like I did with you.”

Peepers held him tight, laughing. _It’s good to be home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end at last! Thanks for taking the time to read this, and I hope y'all liked it!


End file.
